Hope
by Raivon
Summary: Forces conspire as the fate of John and Cameron's creation promises to either be the salvation humanity needs, or its ultimate destruction. Part 5/5 of the Revolution/Reversion/Harbinger/Judgment story arc. Please review. John/Cameron
1. 5 Months Gone

**Hope**

**Chapter 01: 5 Months Gone**

ARROWHEAD

THURSDAY 16th MAY

3.42PM

Sunlight baked the earth beneath it, making the wings of a lone dragonfly sparkle like diamonds across the surface of a small lake. It sat there, perfectly poised upon the water's surface and drank deeply from its depths. The date was May 16th 2011 and little did the insect know that in just six months time the pool it drank from would be filled with the rotting remnants of mankind. Not that it would live long enough to see the coming apocalypse as it took to the skies and flew straight into the path of a Chrysler's windshield.

"Another one bites the dust."

John tore his attention from the passing surroundings to stare at the green splatter on the windshield, taking its place beside the half dozen dead insects littering the glass. Derek flicked the wiper switch and the entrails spread across the windshield, becoming mixed with the other miniscule corpses. The corner of John's mouth twitched as he turned back to the mass of trees and hills along the roadside. Derek glanced at the young adult, expecting him to comment on the over-abundance of suicidal bugs. He did not, however.

"You know, we've been driving for hours and all you've done is sit there and brood", Derek sighed.

"I'm not brooding", John replied quietly, his gaze still fixed on the passing trees.

This was not entirely true, however. Though he had to remind himself that he was almost a grown man, John couldn't help but feel adolescently dejected by the impromptu interruption of his "vacation" at the Presidio Alto Military Academy. It wasn't so much that he was brought back earlier than he had intended, but the fact that he folded so easily under his mother's pressure. _Way to avoid the apron strings_, he mocked himself.

"This is about your mom, isn't it? You're pissed that she dragged you back here so soon."

Derek's capacity for reading John's thoughts was starting to become tiresome.

"It would've been nice if she listened to me for once, yeah", John replied.

He couldn't have stayed there forever, as much as that prospect appealed to him. Life had been so blissfully simple under the heel of the Tacks, crawling through the dirt and shallow waters, firing blanks in the simulated combat scenarios, and scoring headshots with every paintball in his rifle. His fellow Plebes hated his guts for having to wash the yellow dye out of their hair every night, but it was all good. They knew better than to pick a fight with the guy who overpowered their top fighter in hand-to-hand combat in every bout.

A month simply wasn't enough time for John to come to terms with his life… and what awaited him at home.

"You've gone quiet again", Derek observed.

John sighed deeply and cast his uncle an irritated look. He hadn't picked the entire time they were at the academy, so why start now? _I guess he's been saving it_. In fact, they had said very little to each other at the academy. John had kept himself locked within his own little bubble while Derek watched from afar. He knew what was bothering the youth, but until now, he daren't mention it…

"This is about her, right? This is about what she's carrying."

"We're not talking about that", John growled, his expression darkening considerably.

A bump in the road shook the entire vehicle and sent harsh vibrations up into John's spine, rattling his teeth and making his entire body shiver. Little did he know that the vibrations were having a more significant effect on Derek, whose thoughts flashed back to the roadside bombs on the battlefield of Los Angeles 2027. The Chrysler passed over some gravel and the crunching of the tires reminded Derek of the HK tanks rolling over mountains of human skulls. Even after all this time he couldn't keep the nightmare out of his thoughts.

"Are you okay?"

Derek snapped out of his reverie and cast John a short glance, mentally shaking himself.

"Yeah, I'm good. Was just thinking about how no matter how screwed up this is, it _does_ seem a little fitting", he answered. John frowned at him, simultaneously asking what he was on about and warning him to stay off that topic. But he continued, "It gets me thinking about Kyle and how I had to look out for him. Hell, I practically brought that kid up and raised him like my own."

"You were brothers. There's a difference…" John replied quietly, his eyes misting over like they always did when his father was mentioned.

"Is there? I mean, it's the same deal, isn't it? You're meant to lead. You're meant to know how to lead; how to make decisions. What better way to learn how to do these things than to raise a child?" his uncle asked. John snorted softly but didn't provide a rebuke. He simply watched the world go by, trying in vain to focus his attention on the beauty of the mountain landscape of Arrowhead.

The road became steeper and less inviting as they gradually ascended the mountain, off-road pathways being what they were. Derek had to admire Sarah's genius for choosing such a location, despite its taxing distance from the city central. Though as a particularly rough bump resulted in his head colliding with the door frame, he had to wonder why she hadn't at least chosen an easier and more direct path to the safe-house. _Would be too easy_, he reminded himself. In his opinion, she was becoming a little paranoid ever since…

"I'm surprised you believed her."

Derek looked over at his nephew, who was facing him properly for the first time during the long journey home.

"What?" he asked.

"Cameron. When she told you about… it… I'm surprised you took her word for it", John elaborated.

Derek scratched the stubbly hair on his chin and narrowed his eyes at the road as he spoke, "I saw the scan just like you did. We checked, double checked, and triple checked to be sure it wasn't a hoax. I may not understand how, but it simply is. We all just gotta accept and move on."

"Accept and move on", John repeated unconvinced. "And what do you think about that? You still wanna hold me down while mom castrates me?" he joked with acidic cynicism, remembering Derek and Sarah's initial reaction to the news that he'd not only slept with a machine (_Cybernetic Organism_, Cameron reminded them), but made her pregnant with some pseudo love-child.

The corners of Derek's mouth twitched as he recalled that day several long months ago.

"I might consider it if I catch you two at it again. Once is bad enough", he replied with a hidden smile.

"Yeah, you and mom know all about that", John reminded him snidely. Derek fell silent as he tried to blot _that_ memory away forever.

The crunching of gravel became more prevalent as the corner of the cabin came into view behind the wall of trees and thick green foliage. Derek swung the Chrysler into the drive and brought it to a stop, switching off the engine and letting out a sigh as he relieved his foot from the gas. It had been a long drive… too long.

He glanced up and spotted the swishing of brown hair in the kitchen window as a figure moved into the lounge. Turning to his right, Derek saw a glimmer of panic in John's face, his eyes widening noticeably. "I'm not ready for this", he whispered to himself, briefly unaware of Derek's presence.

"No father ever is", he replied before kicking the door open and stretching his legs for the first time in hours.

John remained in the car and took a deep breath, wishing more than ever that he was back at the academy and far away from here.

He wasn't ready…

-----000-----

_Licence plate ID confirmed: MATCH_

He was home.

From the kitchen window, Cameron watched as the car pulled into the drive and slowed to a stop; the engine going quiet seconds later. She had been waiting for this for near a month. When he left he said nothing about spending more than a few weeks at the academy. But two weeks later he announces he's going to stay another fortnight, and the meal Cameron had prepared especially for his return was enjoyed by the cat instead. But he was home now. He had returned to her and they could finally have that talk he'd been avoiding.

_Time since departure: 26 DAYS 13 HOURS 43 MINUTES_

_Is this sufficient time for relational healing?_ John hadn't taken to the pregnancy as positively as she'd speculated. According to her research beforehand, most fathers are overjoyed by the news of an impending birth. Though she was aware that some responded negatively to such information, she was certain he fit the criteria of those who would welcome the news. She was mistaken. It had, as her former socialites would put it; "Freaked the friggin' crap out of him."

_Time is the greatest healer_, she was told.

_Why?_ she had asked.

_Because it gives the person some space between the things that hurt and the scar it'll become one day_, they replied.

_Thank you for explaining._

By that logic, John should be more receptive to her after all this time. Or so she hoped. The downcast expression on his face left little to be desired. Though she found him aesthetically pleasing at all times, Cameron certainly favoured his miserable visage much less than the others he was known to display. The Y-shaped scar on his left cheek tended to become all the more obvious in this demeanour.

Thundering footsteps reverberated from the stairs and Cameron turned away from the window, stepping into the lounge to meet Sarah as she jumped the last two steps with a relieved smile on her face, which she promptly smothered at the sight of Cameron. "They're back", she informed her. Sarah gave her a look that quite clearly accentuated the obviousness of her declaration and poked her head into the kitchen to gaze out of the window.

"It's about time", she mumbled to herself, not caring that Cameron could hear. And why should she when the cyborg shared her anxiety?

In the corner of her eye, Sarah spotted Cameron reaching for the front door. "You're not going anywhere", she affirmed, making the cyborg stop in her tracks, arm outstretched.

"I'm going to greet John", Cameron innocently explained.

Sarah crossed her arms and entered the lounge, her eyes fixed on the bulging belly protruding from beneath Cameron's dress. "Yeah, well I need to talk to him first and you need to lie down for awhile. I told you not to stand up all day, it's bad for the baby", she insisted. Cameron glanced down at her stomach and placed a hand on the mound, her brow knitting together as she conducted a brief scan.

"The baby is unaffected by prolonged mobility. I don't understand your concern."

"That's because you don't understand children, or what it's like to be a mother to one. Now do as I say and lie down", Sarah ordered.

Cameron regarded her closely for a second before setting herself down on a comfy chair, the slightest hint of dejection in her otherwise blank features. Sarah shook her head and opened the door with a sigh, closing it behind her. Cameron knew the foetus was perfectly healthy and that there was no evidence to suggest her movement was harming it, but then she considered that Sarah was a mother and had carried a child once before. _She possesses firsthand knowledge and experience_, she acknowledged. So she decided to obey… for now.

-----000-----

Derek was already in the process of unpacking the trunk when Sarah left the cabin. Carelessly, he heaved their bags out of the car and threw them on the gravelled drive, only sparing a single glance at her as she approached with her arms folded. John stepped out of the Chrysler and gave a grunt as he stretched his legs and shoulders before taking small steps in his mother's direction.

Even before he spoke she knew he was tired. Everything about him told her he hadn't been sleeping properly since he left a month ago. Sarah stopped halfway and waited for him to come to her, making a point John was all too conscious of.

"So what tragedy has befallen our humble abode that requires the great John Connor to come all the way home?"

_Ever the joker_, she mused as he swayed to a stop.

"Kitchen tables", she replied with a coy smile.

John's face became dumb as he repeated her answer, shrugging and shaking his head in his confusion.

"We need someone to cut a semi circle into the table so Tin-Miss can sit up for dinner", she explained.

John snorted and stared at the kitchen window but could see no sign of Cameron inside. _She must be getting big_, he thought. It had been almost six months since his birthday and she was starting to tell long before he left. A new dilemma struck him: it was hard enough to ignore the growth before; how much harder is it going to be now?

A finger clicked near his right ear and John snapped out of his thoughts, casting Sarah a tired glare.

"You should go inside and get some sleep", she advised after looking him over.

"Nah, I'm okay. I can help Derek put the stuff-"

"No! We can handle it. Go inside. Sleep", his mother commanded.

John sighed and gave her a mock bow. "By your leave, your majesty", he replied before slouching past her and hovering by the door for a second. He could feel her eyes on his back, so he turned the handle and stepped inside. Satisfied, Sarah marched towards the back of the car as Derek hauled the last bag out of the trunk and lowered it gently to the ground.

"What are those?" she asked, giving the bag a gentle nudge with her foot.

"Guns and explosives", he answered, swiping her foot away.

_Figures_, she thought. It was no surprise that Derek would treat the weaponry with loving care whilst throwing everything else every which way. Bending down, Sarah unzipped the bag to reveal plethora of shotguns, rifles, and an RPG launcher. _Fun for the whole family_, she mused whilst sifting through the contents. "I see you took precautions", she commented.

"You can never be too careful", he replied distractedly.

Sarah stood up and narrowed her eyes at him as she assessed his behaviour. She had learned long ago how to read people's faces, and Derek's was telling her to leave well enough alone, but there were things they needed to discuss and he was just going to have to like it or lump it. "I thought I made it clear when you agreed to take him. Two weeks. No more, no less", she started.

"He's a grown kid, he can make his own choices-" he began.

"But not when that choice places him away from the protection he needs!" she snapped back.

_Here we go_, Derek sighed. Slamming the trunk shut, he picked up the weapons bag and squared up to Sarah, meeting her fierce gaze with one of his own. "You may not think so, but I know for damn sure that that kid needed more time than you were willing to give him. And if you wanna blame me, then fine. Blame me. It's what you're best at!" he replied.

Sarah could only glare as he marched towards the garage; no doubt to inspect, clean, and reload every weapon in his arsenal. She clenched her fist as his words echoed in her head, carrying bitter truths she'd rather not admit.

_Life is a bitch and so are you_, she reminded herself.

-----000-----

Honey, vanilla, and a subtle hint of something indescribably sweet filled John's nostrils as he stepped inside the cabin and closed the door behind him. The lounge was empty and he could hear no movement upstairs, but the smell of cooking drew his attention to the kitchen and his heart skipped a beat.

Cameron was standing at the kitchen counter with her back to him, her long chocolate brown hair flowing down her back and curling around her shoulders as her arms moved across the top of the oven. The sudden urge to run upstairs and hope she won't notice him was quelled by the growling of his stomach, which she heard with her keen audio receptors. Looking over her shoulder at him, Cameron's face lit up in a wide smile that caught the sun's light, making her light up like an angel.

John couldn't help but smile back at the sight of her. Cameron's smile softened as she turned her attention back to whatever she was making, not saying a word to John and awaiting him to make the first move. Awkwardly, he stepped onto the threshold and hovered near the table, vaguely remembering his mother's quip. Still she did not turn to acknowledge him, and John knew he deserved such treatment.

"What'cha making there?" he ventured.

Cameron put the spatula down and reached for a plate. Seconds later she turned around and presented him with a platter of pancakes. John's gaze slid from the pancakes to her belly, however, and he felt his mouth go dry at the sight of it. She was perfectly round, the bulge poking out from under her flowery dress, and as his eyes travelled down her body he noticed her feet were bare. Her toes were painted a peachy colour which glistened in the light. Dragging his eyes back up to her face, he could see she had applied a subtle amount of eyeliner.

Her eyes captured him like they always did, trapping him with their intensity and depth. She noticed his enamour and smiled again, holding the plate out for him to take. He tentatively reached out and placed it on the table, obeying her gesture to sit as she handed him a fork and stood over him while he took a bite.

"Mmm… Vanilla, right?" he asked, enjoying the sweet taste of her much-better-than-Sarah's cooking.

Cameron nodded and watched him with bright eyes, silently scanning his features for any changes since their last meeting. Besides the fatigue under his eyes, there was little difference to his handsome face. His eyes were their usual dark green, like the foliage in the woodlands surrounding them. He'd had his hair cut since leaving, and it was now short but with enough length to stick out in odd places. And the scar on his right cheek and above his eyebrow, courtesy of Jason, was little more than a silver lightning bolt.

Without measuring the consequences, Cameron placed two fingers on his scar and slowly stroked down its length, her fingers meeting at the bottom. John felt a tingling sensation in his body and felt a little light-headed from her touch. He let out a small breath and wanted to take her hand, but she was very close now, and all he could see in front of him was her stomach. The pattern of flowers on her dress happened to vaguely resemble a face, with two rose heads glaring at him like the eyes of a machine.

If he didn't know any better, John would take it as a sign that his child was unhappy with his behaviour.

"I err- I gotta get some… sleep", he stammered, pushing out of his chair and backing towards the stairs. Cameron's expression fell and she looked down at the pancakes, then back at him with bewildered eyes.

"Is something wrong? Don't you like my pancakes?" she asked.

John swallowed, still tasting the delicious meal she'd made for him, but it wasn't them that were making his stomach turn.

"No… No, I just… I need some rest. I'm very tired", he explained, placing a hand on the banister and his foot on the first step.

Moving faster than any pregnant woman he'd ever seen, Cameron closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, gently pressing him against her belly as she placed a tender kiss on his cheek and pulled back to observe his reaction. John's eyes fluttered from the affection and he stroked her jaw before sliding from her hold and stomping upstairs, his hand on his stomach.

"We can talk some more later?" she asked to his back, but he ignored her and disappeared into his room… their room.

"Later…" she repeated to herself, placing a hand on her stomach.

His behaviour had not improved, much to her abhorrence. Several minutes passed as she remained rooted to the spot, her thoughts drifting back to the day she first told him about the pregnancy. It took him over an hour to come to, and even then he thought it was just a dream, until she told him a second time. Naturally, Sarah tried to blow her head off for being "sick" and "twisted" enough to fabricate such a lie, but showing them the scan changed all of that.

Cameron turned on her heel and stepped outside just as Sarah was coming in, the two almost bumping into each other.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

_Updating query tally: 2,485 – 2,486_

The 2,486th time she'd been asked where she was going and what she was doing by Sarah, John, or Derek since the baby announcement. It had become almost an obsession to them, and Cameron might've mistaken it for concern if she thought Sarah actually harboured any care for her. No. As far as Sarah was concerned, Cameron was just the unwelcome girlfriend who was now stuck with them in spite.

"I'm going to sit out on the bench for a while", she replied.

Sarah regarded her suspiciously for a moment before nodding. "Don't wander off", she warned her before disappearing into the cabin.

Cameron walked over to the bench overlooking the hills below and considered sitting, but the path into the woods to her right proved more enticing, and despite Sarah's advisement, she took off at a steady pace into the trees. Walking through the woodlands had become a favourite pastime for her since John left for the academy. She would spend hours enjoying the soft breeze caressing her skin, the falling leaves cascading down her body, and the smells and sounds of life around her.

Ever since her moment with John on his birthday, Cameron's senses for the world around her had elevated somewhat, and her appreciation for all the little things extended far beyond sticking a foot out of the window of a moving vehicle. Even snapping the neck of a raccoon the other day was far more satisfying than normal. Though killing things was still her favourite hobby, Cameron couldn't help but marvel at the other joys in life, were she to consider herself alive.

She often wondered whether the child had something to do with her newfound capacity for sensation. So much had changed since that fateful night between her and John, not including how close to death they both came when Skynet came crashing down on top of them in its Vessel form. Cameron had almost died in the struggle, but John saved her, risking his own life to keep her from falling forever.

The breeze dropped by a few degrees and small bumps rose up on Cameron's skin, reminding her of how cold the jelly felt on her belly when Sophie performed the scan of her womb. At first, Cameron was surprised she had a womb in the first place, but the small mass of cells and membranes growing inside it was far more alarming. John almost slipped into a coma when he saw the conclusive evidence.

Movement in the corner of her peripheral drew Cameron's gaze to a small squirrel as it shot up a tree on her left and sat on the branch, clutching a nut firmly between its paws. A brief scan of its markings identified the mammal as the same creature she had encountered many times before. It seemed to have made its nest in the tree, but this one was old and looked like it could topple at any moment.

"You should vacate the premises. Your current location isn't safe", she informed the squirrel.

It paused at the sound of her voice and stared for a long time in her direction, frozen in its pose as it regarded her without blinking. Cameron tipped her head to one side as she watched him watch her. A deafening crack hit her like a gunshot and a warning light flashed in her HUD. The base of the tree splintered and it loomed over her, crashing towards the earth with the force of a meteorite. Cameron leapt to her right barely a second before it struck the ground with a mighty _thud_.

A faint cloud of dust rose up from the tree, covering Cameron head to foot in a light layer of wood chippings and dirt. Reaching under her dress, Cameron unclipped the Glock strapped to her right thigh and scanned the immediate area, searching for any signs of life besides the native creatures. But she was alone in the woods, save for the startled squirrel that hopped onto the trunk with an air of utter confusion.

Storing her sidearm, Cameron snatched the mammal from the trunk and held him carefully in her hands. He did not scrabble against her, and merely stared as she examined him. "I told you to relocate. You should've listened to me", she told it. The squirrel wrinkled its nose at her, a gesture she took as 'thank you'. Cameron leaned over to place it back onto the trunk, but paused and thought about it for a second. Leaving him to his own devices without a home to go to would be hazardous. A decision had to be made.

"I will find you a new home and maybe a mate too. You need to be careful though", she informed the squirrel as she walked deeper into the woods. The trees became closer and it wasn't long before Cameron had left the beaten path and set off into the wildest parts of the woodlands. She found a tree, much sturdier than the other, and sat the squirrel on the highest branch she could reach, tip-toeing until her HUD flashed in warning of her increased weight affecting her balance.

Rocking slightly, Cameron set herself back onto her feet and watched as the squirrel examined his new surroundings curiously. Tentatively, he scuttled across the branch and found a small nook in the tree, into which he disappeared without a second thought. Cameron stood and waited for the mammal to poke his head back out, but after 16.2 seconds passed she realised her efforts were not appreciated.

"You're welcome," she spoke in deadpan.

_Snap!_

Reacting in an instant, Cameron spun to her left, dropping to her knees as she drew the gun in one hand and placed the other on her belly in a protective manner. She scanned her surroundings but could see no sign of anything unusual in her immediate vicinity. A quick scan of her database informed her of the most likely cause of the noise: a snapping twig. Rising slowly from her crouched position, Cameron backed away from the tree slowly.

After several long moments, she started back to the main path, deciding it better to return to the cabin before Sarah catches on.

She never holstered her weapon until clear from the trees, however…

-----000-----

Military investments, corporate finances, cybernetic research… nothing conclusive.

Sarah threw the files on her bed and picked up her phone from the dresser, hesitating a second before dialling the last number in the world she wanted to call. Placing the phone against her ear, she briefly wondered how things could become so reversed that she was relying on an enemy for help. As the dial tone fell into its repetitive rhythm, Sarah looked back at the past few months.

It had almost been too much on occasion. Ever since the infiltrator had fallen into their laps, all hell had broken loose. The destruction of their old home, Marty's murder, Cameron's reversion, The Vessel; all of it was down to him in her eyes. But he still had his uses, and their life in Arrowhead had been very quiet since, besides the baby crisis. The word 'grandmother' popped into her head and for once she was glad to hear his voice, banishing the thought from her mind.

"_What do you want?"_

Even to this day, his voice still carried a charm she couldn't ignore. But he held little power over her and his charms would not help him in the slightest. "I want more", she replied matter-of-factly. Over the course of the past few months, Jason had conducted his own investigations into Skynet's genesis, but neither he nor she made much leeway until they grudgingly agreed to combine their efforts.

"_And I already told you: I don't have any more information",_ he replied, his irritation undisguised by his tone.

"You're lying. These files you sent me are incomplete. They don't make any sense as they are which means there must be a second half to all of it. So where is it?" she demanded.

Jason let out a sigh of frustration and Sarah could hear the unmistakable chink of a bottle on glass, followed by the _chug_ _chug chug_ of alcohol.

"_Alright look; I know a guy who has access to the second files. But I haven't been able to track him down yet",_ he explained.

_This is new_, she thought.

"You know a guy? And how long have you known about this?" she asked with suspicion.

A moment passed, then Jason replied; _"Long enough. I know where he'll be tonight. I'll find him. I'll get those files."_

"Not alone, you won't", she declared. "I'm sending Derek to go with you."

"_I don't need his help. Or anyone else's for that matter",_ he snarled.

"Maybe… But I have a right to take care of my investment. And you keep too many secrets for my taste. He'll meet you in two hours."

Sarah hung up without another word and threw the phone on the bed in disgust, a part of her feeling dirty for having dealings with the devil. She hadn't forgotten the number of times he'd tried to murder them in the past, and the pure chaos he brought down on them. He was volatile, dangerous, and almost impossible to neutralise. After the Vessel's destruction, Sarah had approached Cameron about trying to kill him once and for all, but she made it clear that he was simply too powerful in his current form.

Cooperation was the wisest move right now, and Sarah wasn't willing to give the abomination a reason to come after her son again.

"Hey…"

Sarah snapped out of her thoughts and gunned her glance to the doorway, seeing John standing there with shadows under his eyes, looking like he could barely stand. "Hey to you too. Sleeping alright?" she replied, picking up another file and re-reading the cliff-notes. John staggered into the room and slouched onto the side of the bed, peering over his shoulder at the collection of files and photographs.

"What's all this?" he asked with a slight frown.

Sarah gave up trying to make sense of the notes and handed them to him instead.

"Information… and various other clues that make no sense to me, maybe you can have a crack at 'em", she proposed.

John flicked through the pages and narrowed his eyes at a paragraph, rubbing his eyes and squinting some more. "You look a mess", Sarah observed, eyeing up his tussled hair and thrown-on clothes. The corner of John's mouth twitched as he turned to the next page and read its contents. "How much sleep did you get on the way up here?" she asked.

"A lot less than I would have at the barracks", he sighed.

Sarah took the comment on the nose and bit her tongue from making a snappy retort. "You had plenty of time for that. More than enough…" she muttered just loud enough for him to fear. John looked up at her with a dark expression and smirked sardonically.

"Oh yeah, and what the hell do you know?" he asked.

"I know that letting you stay there any longer would've been a mistake. I know that you were only there because you couldn't face what was happening here..."

John's grip on the bed tightened as he looked away, trying not to listen to the truth in his mother's words.

"…and I know that now is _not_ the time for you to walk away from your responsibilities", she finished. She knew he was taking in every word she was saying, even if he refused to look her in the eyes while she spoke. The twitch in his left temple told her all she needed to know about his state of mind right now. He knew what was coming and that she would win this argument.

But he wouldn't be her son if he didn't at least make her fight for it.

"And you know all about giving up responsibilities, don't you?" he countered.

Sarah's face became ashen at his remark.

_Hello Ms. Connor. I'm from DCFS. All the paperwork is in order. We just need to cross the 'T's and dot the 'I's…_

"You criticize me for walking away when you did it yourself", he continued.

_This states that you irrevocably consent and have been advised of the legal consequences of this relinquishment, and that once the contract has been signed all parental rights will be terminated…_

"At least I wasn't turning my back on my family."

_Sign here… and we'll get a certified copy to the judge._

She signed.

John turned to her and instantly saw the pain of the memory fresh in her mind. He drew no satisfaction from seeing her suffer, but she needed to understand that everyone makes mistakes. Everyone does things they would regret later in life. And as her gaze dropped to the floor, he knew his point had been made. Sarah reached out and pulled him into a hug, stroking his hair like she did when he was a child.

"I'm sorry", she whispered.

John closed his eyes as all the anger and frustration was washed away by her embrace.

Nobody's perfect.

-----000-----

LOS ANGELES

7.22PM

It had been less than twenty minutes and already Derek was yearning for the uninterrupted silence he and John had suffered on the long ride home. It would make a welcome change to the never-ending natter that bombarded his ears right now. Jason had an uncanny ability to find every right way to tick him off. It wasn't enough that he wouldn't shut up; it was the precision and calculated agitation of his words that really dug the nail deep.

"Dear God, don't you ever shut up?!" he bellowed, finally having enough of his crap.

Jason chuckled and leaned his head back, his knee resting on the dashboard while Derek handled the wheel. "What's wrong, Reese? Not a fan of small talk?" he mocked. More than ever, Derek could feel the weight of his Beretta pressing against his ribs, but idly he remembered how futile it would be to even try to put a bullet in the cyborg's head.

"I'm not a fan of your bullshit. So can it already. Let's just meet this contact and get it over with", Derek replied in exasperation.

Jason smirked and pointed his finger ahead and left, signalling Derek to turn at the next set of lights. He followed the road to its end and Jason inclined his head towards a side road leading down the back of an old box factory. "You agreed to meet him here?!" Derek exclaimed, eyeing the dark surroundings suspiciously.

"You don't like it? I hear it's a quality establishment", Jason quipped.

"You're such a comedian, you know that?" Derek muttered, still scanning the factory for threats.

"C'mon Derek; what's the worst that can happen?" Jason asked as he stepped out of the car… and right into the barrel of a 12-guage.

A man, somewhat squat and timid in appearance, held the shotgun with shaking hands against Jason's left shoulder. The T-999 conducted a brief scan, detecting his elevated stress, though the sweat on his bald head was enough evidence of this. Derek slowly stepped out from behind the wheel, his hand sliding for the gun tucked in his belt. A moment of tense silence passed as each man assessed their respective situations. The gunman jerked the weapon in Derek's direction for a second before bringing it back on Jason, who regarded him closely.

"Don't anybody move a muscle! I ain't afraid to use this, ya know!" said the little man with as much bravado as he could muster.

Jason's expression turned from calculation to mild amusement as a small grin spread across his face.

"You think this is funny? Huh?" the man yelled, shoving the barrel closer to Jason's face. The Triple-9 raised his arms and took a step back, still smiling his smug smile. The man didn't like his indifference and found it very unsettling. _Why isn't he afraid?_ he asked himself. The sooner he got it over with though, the better he'd feel, however; and so he guided his thoughts back to the matter at hand.

"Where's the money you promised?"

Derek let his hand return to his side as he realised who the man was. Jason cast him a brief look and nodded in confirmation of his conclusion. "You bored yet?" Derek asked the cyborg. Jason smirked and turned back to the man, his head tipped slightly to one side as he scanned his posture and bearing.

"Oh yeah", he replied.

"I said show me the money!" the contact screamed, letting go of the shotgun and reaching into his pocket for his handgun.

In less than a microsecond Jason swiped the shotgun from the guy's hand and turned it around on him, making the contact pause with his other hand hovering near the zipper of his jacket.

"When you point a gun at someone you better be ready to use it", he said, levelling the weapon with the man's face. "Now put your gun on the hood, slowly." The man complied, removing the small handgun from his jacket and placing it on the hood, where it was promptly snatched up and pocketed by Derek.

"Now I'll ask you again: where're the files I asked for?"

The man peered down the barrel of his own weapon and gulped, knowing he had just lost all bargaining leverage.

"S-sure, I g-got your stuff…" he stammered, reaching into the back of his jacket and procuring a yellow postal packet and dumping it on the hood of the car. Derek perused the items, pulling out several documents and CDs before nodding to Jason.

"This looks like what we need", he confirmed.

Jason turned back to the man and smiled, lowering the shotgun, much to the contact's relief.

"Now was that so hard? Why did you shove a gun in our faces anyway? You knew my offer was legit", Jason chided.

"I c-can't take the risk these days. Last deal I made I almost got my jingles cut off by a drug baron", the man explained.

Jason cast Derek a look of mutual amusement before poking the man in the ribs. He recoiled and held his hands up to shield himself like a frightened child. Jason chuckled and shook his head incredulously. "What are you even doing in this business? You obviously can't hack it, can you?" he mused.

"I got kids to feed, ya know? Ain't good at nothing else", the man explained, scratching his head.

"Well you're not good at this either", Derek pointed out.

Jason sighed and pulled out a wad of bills, making the contact's eyes light up at the sight of them. He started counting the money, taking his time as he rolled every $100 note, fully aware of the man's rapturous attention. He stopped mid-count, however, and narrowed his eyes at the contact, holding the money closer to his chest.

"What was it we agreed on again?" he asked the man.

"Umm… It was $500 as I recall", he squeaked.

"Well I think since you almost blew my head off, I should take a 20% cut of what I owe you", Jason decided.

The man's expression turned from acute anxiety to outrage in a flash. "What?! You've got to be kiddin' me! We agreed on $500! No more no less!" he bellowed, bobbing on the spot angrily. Derek could see Jason was enjoying this but made no effort to intervene, as he was curious to see how this would play out. "You should be paying _me_ 20% more!" the man added.

Jason's became thoughtful for a second as he considered the man's demands, then replied; "Okay then. If you agree to lower your asking price by $100, I will give you 20% of $500 on top of that total. Deal?"

The contact's face contorted with the strain of calculating his profit, while Derek imagined a dying hamster running slowly in his head. "Okay… you have a deal." _Looks like the hamster croaked_, Derek mused as Jason handed over $500 to the man.

He counted his money, only for his face to fall back into incredulity as he realised something was wrong.

"You've only given me $500! You owe me $600!" he protested.

"Actually I don't. You see; you wanted a 20% increase, but I wanted a $100 reduction. You agreed, so I then took that $400 and added 20% of the $500. Your earnings are accurate", he explained with a smug smile. The man took a few moments to process the scandal before going a deep shade of red.

"You swindling bastard!" he cried before driving his fist into Jason's jaw.

_Big mistake_, Derek thought as the contact started screaming and cradling his now-broken wrist.

"Pleasure doing business with you", Jason quipped before adjusting his coat and stepping back inside the vehicle, ignoring the man's anguished cries. Derek followed suite and brought the car to life, pulling away from the thrashing midget.

"You're a mean bastard, you know that?" he sighed as they pulled back onto the main road.

"I didn't ask him to throw a punch. He reaps what he sows, Reese. As do we all", Jason replied, idly hiding the packet under his coat next to his gun.

"She'll be wanting those", Derek reminded him.

"She'll get them once I've made copies of the originals", Jason replied.

Derek snorted and glanced down at the shotgun by his feet, consciously taking note of the two guns in his jacket, but once again reminded himself of the futility of his desires. "And I'm supposed to trust you on that?" he challenged.

"Like you have a choice? You may be used to sitting beneath Sarah's heel, but I'm not going to let her push me around. She can wait until _I_ am ready to share, not the other way around", Jason countered.

"Whatever you say", Derek conceded, not fully giving a care anyway.

A moment of silence passed as Derek concentrated on resisting the urge to crash the car into the nearest wall, wanting more than ever to be rid of Jason and his agonisingly annoying attempts at conversation. He counted himself lucky that he had yet to say anything though, and a small flicker of hope emerged that promised a mercifully quiet return trip…

"I spy with my little eye-"

"Jesus Christ", Derek sighed.

…or not.

-----000-----

ARROWHEAD

FRIDAY 22ND MAY

8.16AM

Cameron always wondered why humans were designed to sleep. It was an obvious flaw in their design that left them in a vulnerable state. Surely a constant adrenaline feed would be far more efficient to maintain physical energy. But then, Sarah had told her once that they would not be humans if they were not flawed, and that this was the difference between them and the machines.

But this was not entirely true. Cameron did not consider herself flawless. Her energy cell could only last 120 years before needing to be replaced, though her lifespan was now notably diminished due to the strains of supporting a growing life form. The same functions that monitored her flesh sheath were being stretched to their limits to maintain the foetus in her unnatural womb. She was not designed to bring life, only to take it.

_Current status: OPTIMAL_

It was still alive. She couldn't understand how or why, but it simply was. No one believed her when she first announced the pregnancy. It was inconceivable (pun intended). But after confirmation was made, there was no doubt that she was carrying John's child. Sophie had offered the only illogically logical explanation for this anomaly:

_The process of mapping and creating a flesh sheath from a living human is not without its quirks, John. Sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes the finished product isn't 100% identical to the original. And sometimes things slip through the cracks in the replication stage; genetic data that would normally be erased. In this case I can only assume that Cameron, the real Cameron I mean, was pregnant at the time of her death…_

This shouldn't have happened to her. It wasn't something Skynet could ever have predicted. How was she to know?

_The genetic data of the still-born child most likely survived the purging process and was integrated into the sheath's artificial design. The skin and flesh is grown around the endoskeleton, bonding itself to the metal and melding with its functions in a symbiotic fashion. It is capable of regenerating and replacing damaged tissue. So it doesn't surprise me that after a long period of time the foetal data took a physical form inside her uterus…_

But why, in all the unlikelihood of this happening, did it have to happen to her; and with John Connor no less?

_That's not to say it isn't still a miracle…_

Cameron didn't believe in miracles. Everything happened for a perfectly logical reason. She could even provide a logical explanation for why John fell in love with her if asked. But one thing eluded her calculations: why she was in love with him, or how she was even capable of such emotion. How can a machine even interpret such _human_ emotions? She had no answer to this.

But looking down on John as he slept in their bed, she felt (not thought) a sense of clarity about her emotions. She loved him simply because. If fate were to ever have a hand in her existence, this would be the form it would take. John was her everything, her life, her reason for being. She would never harm him, never leave him, never cheat on him or refuse to spend time with him.

She was his… forever.

John's eyes opened and blinked once before he suddenly shot up in bed and let out a gasp of surprise. A moment passed before he gathered his bearings and let out a sigh, slumping back onto his pillow and raising his fingers to clear his eyes from the sleep. "Don't do that, for God's sake", he grumbled. Cameron tipped her head to one side and cast him a bemused look.

"But you always said you enjoy waking up to the sight of me."

"Well not when you're sitting right on top of me like that", he explained.

"But you always said you enjoy me sitting right on top of you", she replied with a sly smile.

John let out a short wheeze of a laugh as he pushed himself up. "Good one", he praised with palpable sarcasm. Cameron leaned back a little and placed her right hand on the bed, balancing herself while her other hand settled on her belly. She was wearing a loose fitting top this morning, with flowery patterns like her dress from before, though John could not see any nefarious faces in them this time. Her arms were bare, as were her lower legs and feet, though she wore a peach skirt that complimented her top perfectly.

John was not oblivious to the thought that she had chosen her clothes with him in mind. She knew what he liked to see and wasn't averse to denying him these pleasures. But she also knew he loved looking at her no matter her state of dress. His attention was not on her this time, however, as she followed his gaze to her abdomen and the large bulge protruding from it. John was visibly tense and she could tell he was thinking about all the fears and doubts she'd seen in him before he left. _He needs reassurance_, she realised.

"The baby is growing within normal parameters. It won't be long now. Four months at the most", she informed him.

John snapped out of his reverie and tore his eyes away from her stomach and down to a loose seam on his shirt.

"Oh really? That's cool…" he mumbled. Cameron watched him fiddle with the seam for a moment before reaching over and snapping it free from his shirt. "Thanks", he said as she dropped it in the bedside bin, hiding his annoyance that she'd removed a convenient distraction from the equation. Cameron continued to watch him expectantly as the awkwardness ensued, patiently waiting for him to speak first. She would not carry the conversation for him.

"So err… What you been up to while I was gone?" he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on hers instead of the belly.

Cameron smiled, making her eyes glitter in the way he loved. "Consuming resources", she replied. John snorted and shook his head at the thought of her stealing the last piece of pizza Sarah always reserved for herself. "There's not much to do here when you're not around", she added with a subtle poke at his conscience. This did not go unnoticed, as John looked away again and let out a sigh.

"Cameron, I never meant to -"

"It responds to your name", she interrupted, knowingly saving him the discomfort of apologising.

"It… what?" John asked.

"The baby; it responds to the sound of your name. Whenever someone speaks it, after the third time it moves", she explained.

She had first discovered this a few weeks ago during an argument with Sarah over the motives for John leaving. The baby had started kicking like crazy as they threw his name back and forth like a tennis ball. She had never felt anything like it, and alerted Sarah to the movements immediately, putting an abrupt end to their bickering. Even she was intrigued enough to place a hand on her belly and feel it, a small smile on her face as it booted her fingers as hard as it could.

"It does?" he replied with chuckle.

Cameron nodded and reached for his hand, placing it on her stomach and holding his fingers there. John gulped and let out a shuddering breath, having never touched the mass before. She was perfectly round and were she not wearing a top, he was sure her skin was still as smooth as ever. His heart began to beat faster in anticipation as she spoke his name twice, pausing to watch him for a moment before speaking it once more.

A tremble passed through his fingers as the child kicked, just as she said it would. John let out a gasp of surprise and stared wide-eyed at the bump, prompting Cameron to repeat the process. The second time was stronger than the first, and his whole hand quivered from the movement. Laughter escaped him as he marvelled at how it felt, feeling more joy in the moment than he had since first learning of its existence. His child was real and alive and kicking. _My child_, he repeated to himself.

Cameron spoke his name a last time and enjoyed his delight of the movement.

"That is incredible", he exclaimed, still smiling brightly and making no effort to remove his hand.

_This is good_, she observed.

John fell silent and started stroking her belly with his thumb, his expression becoming serene as he felt true peace for the first time in many months. Cameron saw no need to break the moment, so she curled her fingers around his and smiled faintly at his attention. They remained like this for many minutes before John shuffled forward so he was sitting beside her. He looked into her eyes for a second, then snaked his other hand up her neck and into her hair, pulling her into a deep (and long overdue) kiss.

She tasted as sweet as he remembered, and the feel of her lips unlike anything he had felt in life. Her scent made him want to melt in her arms. Suddenly, the months he spent ignoring her seemed like such a waste. He should've been here for her before, instead of running away because he couldn't hack it. John had no delusions about his motives. He had cowered in the face of responsibility, and as he gently parted his lips from hers, he promised himself he would never fail his family again.

"I missed you", she whispered.

John simply smiled and stroked her hair, stopping as his fingers brushed something rough amongst the silky strands. Removing the object revealed it to be a twig with a piece of dead leaf attached. Bemused, he held it for her to see and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Well?" he asked expectantly.

"I took a walk in the woods earlier", she explained.

"You do that often?"

Cameron nodded and took the twig from him, closing her fingers around it and crushing it into a fine powder.

"I used to go deep into the woods, but not since yesterday. Trees are dangerous", she told him.

"Oh yeah, and why's that?" he chuckled.

"One almost fell on top of me", she answered.

John's eyes flickered at her matter-of-fact admission and immediately focused on her belly as anger rose in his chest.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he scolded.

"I was-", she struggled to reply.

"You could've been crushed! You could've hurt the baby!" he shouted.

Cameron was affronted by his reaction, having not anticipated such a response.

"I'm sorry…" she offered tentatively.

"You should be", he replied, his expression still darkened by her recklessness. "I want you to stay out of the woods from now on, you understand?" he demanded. Cameron fixed him with a blank stare before nodding in compliance.

"I understand."

"Good. Now go lie down and let me sleep", he commanded.

Cameron dithered for a second before lowering herself onto the bed.

"Somewhere else", he clarified.

Obeying his instruction, she stood up from the bed and looked back at him, only to be met with a cold glare comprised of mingled disappointment, anger, and guilt. The last one made her pause, and suddenly his behaviour seemed somewhat justified in her eyes. _He's just concerned for me_, she realised. She approached the door and looked back at him again, smiling a little as a thought occurred to her.

"You sound like your mother."

"Then maybe you should start listening to her", he advised, the corners of his lips twitching in a slight smirk despite himself.

Cameron gave him one last smile before leaving him in peace and descending the stairs. Sarah was sitting in the lounge with several files and papers spread across the coffee table. "What did I tell you about walking around?" she sniped without even looking up from her work. John's advice echoed in her mind, but Cameron chose to ignore it and stepped outside into the soft sunlight. A soft click caught her attention and Cameron watched as Derek carried a bag into the small shed next to the Chrysler.

A query popped into her head, and the need to answer it proved too much to ignore, so she followed him inside and found him laying weapons on a table, rifles specifically. This was Derek's OCD. Even when the weapons were perfectly clean and ready, he would still find a reason to come back and check them again. Between drinking beer and watching baseball, and occasionally performing vehicle maintenance and tasks for Sarah, this was all he did in the day.

"Is there something you want?" he asked, not bothering to turn around.

"Yes. I have a question about John", she replied.

Derek chortled as he loaded a Beretta. "And here I thought you came to talk about maternity bras", he quipped, remembering the day she cornered him in the bathroom and asked if she looked "tight" in the compensational attire. He later learned she had originally asked Sarah, only to be told to ask him instead. _Typical Sarah_, he thought at the time.

"No, I decided they would not be necessary at this stage. I can't breast feed", she pointed out.

"Gee, thanks for that image", he replied with a shudder. "So what _do_ you want?"

"I want to know what John talked about at the academy. Did he mention me or the baby?" she enquired.

Derek paused a moment to scour his brain for anything related to her, but came up empty. He had been very quiet on that front, and it didn't surprise him in the least. "He never so much as spoke your name", he informed her. Derek looked over his shoulder to observe her reaction, and felt a small twinge of mixed satisfaction and guilt at the sad puppy expression on her face.

"But that doesn't mean you weren't on his mind 24/7", he added to ease his conscience.

Cameron's face brightened noticeably and she tipped her head back up. "How do you know?" she pressed.

"Why else do you think he went away in the first place? He never mentioned you, so that means whatever was going on in his head was kept there, which I'll bet a million bucks was revolved around you and no one else", he explained.

"Are you sure?" she challenged one last time.

Derek sighed and abandoned his work, turning to face her properly. "If I was a kid his age with a knocked up cyborg on my plate, trust me; you would be the _only_ thing on my mind", he clarified before turning back to his guns. Cameron absorbed his words and saw the logic behind them, finding comfort in the knowledge that John still cared out there.

"Thank you for explaining", she said.

Derek simply shrugged and proceeded to ignore her, a cue Cameron took to leave him be. Leaving the shed, Cameron stood in the sunlight, enjoying the warming sensations it sent through her body. Her moment came to an abrupt end, however, as something caught her attention in the nearby bushes. They rustled and shivered; movement inconsistent with the current wind. Curious, she walked towards the bush, her head tipped slightly to one side as she expected a woodland creature to hop out any second.

Adjusting her vision to zoom x2 revealed something else, however, as two very human eyes peered back at her from behind the foliage. Realising they had been spotted, the two eyes widened and a clicking sound could be heard from within the bush. Suddenly, Cameron's threat assessment flashed a warning and she drew her Glock in a heartbeat. Before she could take aim, however, Cameron felt her centre of gravity shift and it took her a moment to realise she was hurtling through the air.

A microsecond later she heard a deafening explosion and could feel intense heat biting at her left side, followed by the jarring tremor of her body striking metal and glass. Her HUD flickered and fragmented as a multitude of damage alerts and situational assessments screamed inside her neural net. Her endoskeleton hummed from the impact, slowly dissipating as the seconds passed by. She was grateful at least to have not been knocked offline. _Sleep equates vulnerability_, she repeated.

From her current position, Cameron idly noticed the shape of the clouds above, spotting one resembling an acorn and wondered whether her squirrel friend had recovered his stash.

"CAMERON!"

Cameron snapped back to reality at the sound of John's voice. Leaning her head forward, she saw the scene around her and the aftermath of the explosion. The Chrysler was blackened and consumed by flames, some of which were burning the trees above and licking at the shed nearby. Derek burst out with a rifle and strafed around the burning wreck that was once his car, scanning the perimeter while Sarah likewise hurtled out of the house with her trusty shotgun in hand. A second later, John emerged; unarmed.

He immediately made for her, but Sarah caught his arm and held him back, but John elbowed her off him and rushed to Cameron's side.

"Oh my God, Cam; are you okay?" he asked, his face awash in distress and concern.

A quick check of her systems provided the answer he desired. "I'm fine."

"And the baby?" he asked with bated breath, fearing the worst.

"Everything's okay, John. My endoskeleton absorbed the impact. The baby is stable", she answered.

John let out a deep sigh of relief and took her hand, helping her off the crumpled windshield of Sarah's Jeep. Her entire left side was blackened and bloodied in places, with small glimmers of metal poking out here and there. Her left eye was bloodshot and she twitched slightly, but seemed otherwise okay in his opinion.

"What the hell happened?!" Sarah yelled over the roaring of the flames.

"I dunno. I was just in the shed when the God-damned car blew up!" Derek answered uselessly.

Sarah's eyes darted all over the place as she struggled to understand what had happened.

"Tin-miss, did you see anything?" she asked.

Cameron immediately recalled the person in the bushes and pointed in that direction.

"I saw someone. There", she answered.

Sarah stared at the bush and nodded at Derek, and he set off to investigate the area. John placed his arm around Cameron's waist and started directing her back into the house. "We gotta get you inside", he told her. Sarah eyed the fire and realised it would have to be put out before it attracted any unwanted attention, so she ran back to the house and pulled the hose from the wall, setting it on the flames as John escorted Cameron inside. A dozen questions jumbled in Sarah's head, but first and foremost she wondered: _who did this?_

-----000-----

The figure was lithe and fast, and Derek had to slide down the hill to cover most of the distance between them. Once righted, he pushed his body to the max, flashing memories of running from HK fire fuelling his muscles to work faster and harder. The suspect had a head start, but he caught up in little time at all. As they hurtled down an open patch among the trees, Derek pushed his body twice as hard and spotted a shortcut between two bushes.

As predicted, the escapee darted around the clump of bushes, but Derek burst straight through them and landed within reaching distance of the person. They side stepped him, however, and used his momentary misbalance to make another break for it. But Derek was quick to recover and once again took chase. He was beginning to tire, however, and he/she were showing no signs of stopping; so he skidded to a halt and fired his rifle once, hitting the tree ahead of him/her.

The person stopped, momentarily stunned by the proximity of the bullet as it passed right by their ear.

"Don't move a muscle or I'll put one right in the back of your head!" he shouted, slowly approaching the now prone figure.

At a closer look, the suspect was wearing a grey sweater with the hood pulled up with blue jeans with a pair of running sneakers. Judging by her size and build, Derek correctly deduced she was female and reminded himself not to let that alter his perceptions of who she was.

"Pull your hood down and place your hands on your head", he ordered.

The woman complied, pulling her hood down to reveal raven black hair before placing her hands on the back.

"Now turn around", he said.

She hesitated, so he repeated his command with more force. Slowly, she turned on the spot and what he saw made his jaw drop and his trigger finger to slacken. He couldn't believe his eyes as those familiar features greeted him with a slightly flustered smile. As the disbelief took hold with an iron grip, only one word escaped his lips:

"Jesse?!"

_End of chapter_


	2. Future Imperfect

**Hope**

**Chapter 02: Future Imperfect**

LOS ANGELES

FRIDAY 22ND MAY

12.42PM

_Box 14b. This is the one…_

Jason reached into the metal container but his fingers found only empty space. He checked every corner but could find nothing. Pulling the lid of its hinges, he stared into the box, but was again presented with the same result. _God damn it!_ he raged and hurled the container across the room, startling Sophie as it crashed against the wall. She cast him a bewildered look as he placed his hands on the shelving unit and kicked the bottom, causing several ammo boxes to cascade around him.

"Oooookay…" she remarked as several 9mm rounds scattered across the floor at her feet. "I take it something's wrong then?" she asked to his back. Jason sighed and turned to face her, leaning against the shelves as he considered the mess he'd made.

"My Glock is gone", he explained.

"Soooo… find another one", she suggested with a bemused smile.

Jason rolled his eyes, knowing she'd missed the point entirely.

"This was the one I've been working on for weeks now, remember?"

Sophie's eyes glazed for a second as she scanned her memory for his mention. A second passed before she remembered to what he was referring. "Oh, you mean _that_ Glock", she realised. Jason nodded, casting the empty box a dark glare. He had been trying to modify the weapon to be more adaptive to different magazine types, and to improve accuracy. So far he'd succeeded in altering it to allow the use of both a normal 17 round clip and a 34 round clip, the latter being capable of rapid fire.

Another addition was a laser sight and a suppressor, both of which he had intended for quiet sniper kills. Sophie knew how adverse Jason was to relying on a variety of weaponry, and that he would create a single gun capable of fulfilling all his needs didn't surprise her, though she had never actually seen this new toy of his. Silence engulfed them as Jason watched a single round roll in circles on the floor. He seemed entranced by it to her eyes, and when it came to a stop, he continued to stare at it in an almost expectant manner.

He was fixed upon it.

Sophie waited for him to redirect his attention to something else, but when a full minute passed she realised it was happening again. A deep sadness welled inside her as she was presented with his flaws again. Ever since his mind was turned into raw software and uploaded onto a CPU he had been increasingly unstable and detached. He would spend hours performing the same repetitive task over and over until she finally snapped him out of it. Jason would have no knowledge of his OCD, and was dazed every time she brought him back.

But this was the least bothersome flaw they had to deal with. His senses, his capacity for feeling, had slowly started to erode over time. When at first he could feel everything around him, smell the air, taste food, and enjoy her touch; he could now barely feel the things he touched; he couldn't smell anything; and his taste buds were practically non-existent. He had become numb to the world, and though he rarely spoke of it, she knew he would give anything to be able to feel the fire he so often put his hand into.

"Jason?"

He did not respond.

Sophie reached out and cupped his cheek in her hand, dragging his face away from the shiny bullet and back to her ocean blue eyes. His expression was almost child-like as he stared into those depths. Slowly, his mind moved on from the metal bronze and explored her face; the face of a human he once knew. Cameron. Even to this day he still struggled to differentiate between Sophie and Cameron. The girl's genetic data had been used for more than just the replication of living tissue for the TOK715 that now guarded John.

Sophie possessed many of Cameron's features, both in her appearance and mind. Though Skynet had made sure to alter her where appropriate, vainly believing that blue eyes and blonde hair was the most attractive female trait. But as similar as she was to Cameron, Sophie was just as different. There was a side to her that Cameron never possessed. She was a seductress, a siren, a liar, an extortionist. But she too was a lover, a soldier, an infiltrator, and the only person in the entire world that Jason trusted completely.

The world seemed to suck him back in as he realised his surroundings. Blinking for the first time in minutes, Jason read the concern on her face and instantly knew what had transpired. He didn't need to say anything, she just held him and nodded silently, offering a weak smile of assurance that everything would be fixed one day. He wasn't going to stay like this forever.

"Did… Did you find my gun?" he asked, still dazed from the experience.

She sighed and shook her head as she replied, "If it's not where you left it then Derek must've taken it the last time he came here."

Jason let out another sigh as the idea of Derek toting his pet project burned him.

"When will that son of a bitch learn to leave well enough alone?" he growled.

"Well maybe you should show him that you're not his pet", Sophie suggested.

"Maybe I should just kill them all right now and be done with it", he countered.

"Jason..." she crooned. Though she knew he was kidding, Sophie couldn't help but wonder if he would make good on his word one of these days. She had thought he'd put it all behind him, but after seeing John with Cameron the last time he visited the Connors', a part of him had ignited into what she believed to be jealous rage. He could not abide the thought of John enjoying life when he was losing his. He never spoke of what he saw, exactly, but she knew it had something to do with their current predicament.

"I know. I know", he sighed, pushing her away gently. "I haven't exactly been successful in the past, have I?"

Grey images of his past failures flashed in his mind, showing himself falling onto a rebar, being crushed by machinery, and being obliterated by a burst of plasma. _Not in the least_, he mused. He had died three times in his life, none of it stuck.

"I remember the first time you tried…" Sophie began, flashing him a mischievous grin.

"I know", he replied.

"You got your ass handed to you by John", she reminded him.

"I know", he sighed.

"And then the second time-"

"I know, Sophie!" he barked.

She simply giggled and wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up into his eyes and kissing his chin playfully.

"You're such an easy mark", she laughed.

_Oh, so now she thinks this is a game?_ Grabbing her arms, Jason pushed her roughly against the shelves behind her. Sophie let out a small gasp at his aggression, her eyes lighting up as he took the side of her neck in his palm. "Where's the switch?" he asked her, his lips inches away from hers.

"Behind the grenade box on my left", she whispered back.

Jason closed the gap and pressed his lips to hers, allowing her to melt into the embrace while he pushed the box aside and felt up the switch. Slowly, she pulled away and leaned back enough to look into his eyes. Her smile did not last, however. "You didn't feel any of that, did you?" she asked miserably. Jason didn't answer, pressing the switch and stepping back instead.

The wall slid back, revealing a small man-sized compartment in deep cold, steam rolling off the walls and gathering around their feet. Sophie shivered as her bare toes were engulfed and bitten by the frost, forcing her to recoil towards the opposite wall. Inside was a metal table and a single glass incubator sat upon it. Its contents stared back at them with dim red eyes, and as Jason approached, the eyes lit up blood red. He reached for it and caressed the glass, feeling as if the part was calling for his touch.

"You know that if you go through with this, you won't be in any position to oppose the Connors", Sophie informed him.

He nodded in response, not really caring all too much. Even if he did kill the Connors, what then? If he had no means of enjoying his victory, what would be the point? Jason had no desire to waste such a pleasure, should the need ever arise to see it through. _I would prefer to feel the kid's neck snap in my hand_, he reasoned.

"I guess that's the price you pay for being a little more…"

"Human?" she offered.

_Yes_, he thought. Jason stepped back from the endo-skull, salvaged from his former body, housing his barely living brain.

_Human…_

-----000-----

TESLA HOTEL

APARTMENT 101b

1.05PM

The door burst open, smacking the wall as Derek dragged his captive onto the threshold. She did not struggle, but neither did she appreciate being handled in this way. Derek did not especially care; as she would be in far worse straights should his suspicions be confirmed. Were it not for the circumstances of her appearance, Derek would've been overjoyed to see his lover again.

"Derek…" she began, but Derek was not interested in hearing her speak right now.

"Shut up", he replied, slamming the door shut behind him and frogmarching her into the lounge.

Once free of his grip, she turned to face the man she'd known through the worst years of her life. But it was not the face she was familiar with, as he pulled his Beretta and levelled it with her chest, aiming for the heart. His eyes burned like coals as they burned into her, familiarising himself with her features. The last time he'd seen her was in 2027, just before she left for a mission aboard her submarine, the Jimmy Carter. During her supply run to Perth he too embarked on a mission, only for him it was a one way trip.

"Derek… I can explain", she offered, her hands half raised in surrender.

"Start", he curtly replied.

"This is a misunderstanding", she started.

Derek was not easily fooled, however, and knew that when circumstances such as these arise; there is no such thing as coincidence.

"I see. So you just happened to be jogging in the middle of nowhere, 16 years before your time, just as someone attacks our perimeter. Help me here; I'm confused", he retorted, still keeping his gun on her chest.

Jesse Flores, 2nd Lieutenant and first mate of the Jimmy Carter, knew she couldn't lie her way out of this situation. Despite what they had both been through, she didn't doubt for a second that Derek would make good on his threat if she failed to explain herself. But a level of discretion was needed, and so the truth would only be told where appropriate. That said, it was always tough to lie to the man she loved.

"I didn't plant the bomb, okay? That wasn't me", she told him.

"You expect me to believe that?" he replied.

"Derek, if you believed for even a second I was responsible, you would've pulled that trigger by now", she reasoned.

She was mindful to choose her words carefully, for even the slightest slip of the tongue could spell her doom. Derek frowned at her reply, and she could see his mind working away to make sense of her presence there. It was unlikely, if promising, that she was not responsible for the explosion. But he needed more proof, and so questions listed themselves in his mind.

"What were you doing in Arrowhead?" he asked.

"What do you think? I was tracking the bastard who set that explosive", she replied.

"If that's the case, why didn't you say something? Why didn't you stop them? And why then did you run from me?" he pressed.

"Because I needed to keep a low profile. Because I didn't arrive in time to stop him", she answered.

"He?" Derek echoed.

_Damn it_, she thought. Derek was always sharp, but he also had a way of luring people into a false sense of security, allowing them to naively believe their secrets were perfectly hidden from him.

"You know who this guy is?"

Jesse didn't answer right away; the question required a moment of analysis. She was skating on thin ice, and if she made one more mistake, she'd most certainly fall through.

"No… I don't know. It could be any one of them", she replied.

"One of who?" he asked.

"It's complicated", she explained.

Keeping him within reaching distance of the carrot was not the wisest idea, considering the gun still pointed at her frantically beating heart. There was too much she had to hide from him, however. Her mission depended upon her secrecy, which she had already irreparably compromised so far. It was now only a matter of limiting the damage. Perhaps a little more truth would in fact be beneficial.

"Look; I'm not here to harm you or John Connor, or his mother, or even the metal carrying his child…"

"How do you know about tha-", Derek began, his grip on the Beretta tightening.

"But what I _am_ here to do is to make sure that that child remains safe", she revealed.

A moments silence engulfed them as Derek digested her words. At first it seemed ludicrous that Jesse, his Jesse, would give a damn about the offspring of a machine, and he still found it hard not to link her to the bombing. But as he chewed on this revelation, his opinion began to waver and the scales tipped to one side.

"You didn't set the bomb?" he asked again.

"No."

"You're saying someone else is responsible, and you're here to stop him?"

"Yes", she answered, hoping he would read her sincerity.

"Then why didn't you warn me or John?"

"I made a decision to keep it a secret, so I could catch him in the act and know who he was. I guess that was a mistake", she sighed, casting him a sorrowful look. Derek considered her carefully as he weighed everything she'd told him. He knew her. In the past he'd trusted her. But her presence here was pushing his boundaries of belief. Of all the soldiers in all the Resistance, why did John send her? And why not send a metal to hunt the assassin? These were all important questions, and he intended to find the answers… one way or another.

"No…" he replied, lowering his gun. "No, you made the right call. I would've done the same."

A sigh of relief escaped Jesse's lips as he tucked the weapon in the belt of his jeans. This wasn't the end of her troubles though.

"Did you get a good look at the bomber?" he asked.

"No, he was wearing a hood. I couldn't see his face", she replied, crossing her arms defensively.

"So what are we dealing with here? Metal?"

"No. Worse", she told him.

_The rabbit hole runs deeper than you can ever be allowed to know_, she mused.

"I want to know everything. You hear me? Everything", he demanded.

And so they talked.

-----000-----

ARROWHEAD

1.22PM

John… _Thump_… John… _Thump_… John…… _Thump_…

Tiny vibrations coursed through his hand as he spread his fingers across Cameron's soft belly. Little did he know that the child was responding to her constant stimuli, intentionally providing him the proof he needed to be sure the baby was okay, not that he didn't believe Cameron when she told him as much; but he couldn't trust her not to shield his feelings should there be something wrong with the child. Her concern for his mental wellbeing often pushed her to lie to him on occasion, to spare him the agony of knowing too much.

But on this occasion her reports were correct as John once again felt the baby kick beneath his palm.

"He's a fighter, isn't he?" John mused, smiling at the force behind each kick.

"You think it's a he?" she asked, patently confused by his expression of clairvoyance.

John shrugged, however, and started rubbing her stomach. "Just a guess", he explained.

"Your guess might be inaccurate", she informed him.

John looked up into her eyes and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her as he asked, "Oh? Is there something you're not telling?" Cameron shook her head and drew a finger across her mound, analysing the texture of her skin and the increase of density since her last scan. A small increase of 0.23 of a pound was all that greeted her, however. Slow progress.

"I do not possess sufficient scanning capabilities to make such an assumption", she lied.

In truth, she had decided not to find out until after it was born. Something Sarah had told her about never having that element of mystery and surprise about John's birth had convinced her to seek ignorance in that regard. So every time she ran a scan or the like, her sensors blocked that data, while simultaneously recording it into her equivalent of a subconscious, just in case she needed to know in an emergency. She hoped such a situation would not arise. That would be unfortunate for John, but convenient for her.

John continued to massage her belly in silence for several long minutes while Cameron watched him and double checked her readings. During the course of her scans, she detected an elevation in John's pulse and his breathing had become heavier. His face had become dark and his mind was clearly elsewhere. "What is it?" she asked.

John cast a glance out of the window where pale smoke continued to rise from the smouldering remains of the car, and his expression turned from brooding to tenacity in a heartbeat. "I won't let this happen again", he uttered quietly to himself. Cameron, still nestled upon a pillow, tipped her head slightly to one side as she was known to do when confused.

"This wasn't your fault", she told him.

"But it was", he shot back, meeting her eyes. "I should've been there to keep you safe."

The corner of her lip twitched into a small smile at his remark.

"That's not your job. _I _have to keep _you_ safe", she reminded him.

"Since when? You don't follow any orders anymore. You have no mission directives, right?" he asked, his brow creasing in confusion.

"I don't… But I make it my mission", she replied with that small smile once more.

"Fine, be stubborn then", he smirked, poking her stomach playfully. "But that's not gonna change my mind. What happened today should never have happened in the first place. I'm… I'm the father. I have a responsibility to it, the baby, and to you. I have to protect you both", he explained.

Cameron took his hand and returned it back to her stomach, holding it there with their fingers entwined.

"Then stay here with me for a while. You were gone for so long. I counted every second."

"Every second?" he asked.

"Every other second", she admitted.

They stared each other down for a lingering moment before John burst into laughter and a bright smile lit up Cameron's face. They hadn't had a moment like this for many months, ever since she announced the pregnancy, in fact. It was these moments that convinced him it was all worth it. She rarely laughed, for her capacity to appreciate humour was still notably limited, but her eyes sparkled all the same.

Their eyes drew closer as John leaned over her, but before their lips could meet; they were interrupted by the familiar creak of the floorboard outside, followed by the clearing of a throat. John closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh as he felt two eyes boring into his back, and forced himself to sit upright and turn to acknowledge his mother's untimely presence.

"I take it everything's in working order then", she observed, trying to ignore the scene before her.

"_Yes_, Cameron's okay. The damage is superficial", he informed her.

"That's sweet, but I wasn't actually talking about her", Sarah replied.

"The baby is fine too", John added; giving her the answer she sought.

Cameron's expression remained blank as she stared back at Sarah, giving her the distinct impression that she was being assessed by the cyborg. Though she had come to accept the fact that Cameron had surpassed her base purpose to hunt and kill, and that she was capable of some measure of feeling and that John was the sole recipient of this, she still remained hesitant to believe that Cameron could ever be counted as a human being. She was a person, perhaps; but never human.

"Good. Cos' the last thing we need is an emergency c-section with metal on our ass. Tin-Miss, you didn't happen to get a look at the guy in the bushes, did you?" she asked.

"No, and it's difficult to determine if the attacker was male", Cameron answered.

"What about Derek? What did he turn up?" John chipped in.

Sarah's brow creased in what he guessed was concern, though it surprised him she would even care.

"Derek hasn't returned yet. If he caught the guy, they're either dead and heavy, or alive and feisty", she replied.

Images of Derek dragging a kicking and screaming ninja popped into John's mind and a small chuckle escaped him. Meanwhile, Cameron was visualising Derek lying face down from a gunshot wound to the chest. Sarah, on the other hand, had no opinion either way.

"I want you two to stay indoors until this is dealt with, you hear me?"

"Yes, mother", they answered in unison.

_Oh, that's all I need_, Sarah thought as she turned back to the door.

-----000-----

3.34PM

Black soot settled on all that remained of the charred vehicle parked in the Connors' drive. The flames had since been extinguished, but the raw heat of the explosion still resonated from within the heart of the car. The air was thick with the fumes of petroleum and twisted metal sticking out at odd angles. Running his hand across the soot encrusted hood, Jason tried in vain to recall the feel of dust and sand.

"You did a bang up job here. But the next time you decide to light up a cigarette whilst checking the gas line-"

"Cut the crap", Sarah snapped.

Brushing the refuse from his hands, Jason turned away from the wreckage and met Sarah's not-in-the-mood-for-bullshit glare.

"You know, a little appreciation wouldn't go amiss. You call me out here to do your dirty work, and this is all I get?" he replied.

She knew what he was doing and why. It seemed almost as if his inability to harm them, if only to ensure his own future, was all that kept him from putting a bullet in them right then and there. But he wasn't about to roll over and sing kumbaya with them either. As Derek put it; "_The bastard is like that last piece of steak that decides it won't be swallowed without clawing down your throat first_." Jason didn't like being their ally any more than she liked having him still breathing, but they couldn't kill him and he couldn't lay a hand on them either.

So they were both stuck with each other, the irony of which was not lost on them.

"Derek went after whoever did this and he hasn't come back yet or contacted us at all. I called you because I can't risk leaving John alone while I look for him", she told him.

Jason glanced up at the upstairs window, catching a glimpse of John moving around inside.

"He's a big lad. He can take care of himself", he replied.

John stopped at the window, catching sight of Jason, and a dark scowl crawled across his features. Jason smirked back at him, a wordless goad for the boy to come down and try his luck. Sarah followed his gaze to the window and narrowed her eyes at John. After a long moment, John spotted his mother's attention and turned away from the window, disappearing from view.

"You have a job to do. So do it", she ordered, having had enough of Jason and anything to do with him.

Without a second's hesitation, Jason reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun, levelling it with Sarah's head as she stalked away, completely oblivious to his actions. It was so tempting to just pull the trigger. A large percentage of all his worries would be wiped away in an instant. But he waited for too long, and Sarah disappeared inside.

With a sigh, he placed the gun in his jacket and turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

_Time to trade one asshole for another_, he mused as he set off into the trees.

-----000-----

3.55PM

Footprints, matching those of Derek's favoured boots came to a stop by the roadside.

Jason knelt down and pressed his fingertips to the impression, taking a long list of readings to determine the length of time it had been there. Within less than two seconds he was presented with the data he sought, informing him that Derek had been here almost three hours ago. The track ended there, however; replaced by the prints of tires from a car. The tires sped down the road as far as Jason's enhanced vision could determine. Looking back at the footprints, Jason could see no signs of a struggle.

Derek left by his own accord, unless he was held at gunpoint, in which case he would've had no choice.

Closer examination revealed a second print, different to Derek's. This was smaller and bore the motif of Nike footwear. Judging by the grip pattern on the sole, Jason guessed it belonged to a pair of jogging shoes. A woman's jogging shoes, no less. _Derek was captured and manhandled by a woman? Sarah is gonna love this_, he thought to himself. The question now was whether or not he could use what he had to find Derek. Mud tracks only led so far, and the road would connect with the main soon enough, which would make following it useless.

_This is going to be a long day_, he sighed.

-----000-----

LOS ANGELES

FOOD COURT

7.11PM

Derek loved these places. He loved the energy of it. The raw feeling of life around him, which painted a stark contrast to the world he'd come from. People, normal ignorant and happy people just sitting around eating crappy takeaways and jabbering about their day; completely devoid of any concern beyond that which meant nothing in the larger scheme. Like the serenity of the park, these places symbolised all that he fought so hard to protect. The end was coming and he would give anything, including his life, to save it.

"You're very quiet", Jesse remarked as they sat down with their Chinese food.

Derek drew himself back to reality and looked down at his meal, wrinkling his nose at the tray of what he could only describe as grease and noodles. Jesse caught his expression and smirked. "Hey, wait until you try it before you turn your nose up at it", she said. Derek stirred the contents unenthusiastically and raised an eyebrow at her as she tucked into her meal without hesitation.

She looked just as he remembered her. The same raven black hair, the same quirk of the lips. The same brown eyes and tinted skin, somehow unblemished by the war. He used to wonder whether she was really metal, given how perfect she always seemed. He knew, however, that this was certainly not the case. He'd seen her inside and out, and what he saw was 100% pure woman; a rarity in his time.

"I prefer cheeseburgers", he replied, jabbing his fork into the 'grease'.

"I bet you do", she smirked.

Derek found himself watching her again. He watched as she ate her food, taking her time to relish every mouthful. This was something new to him, for he had only ever seen her shovel the food into her mouth from starvation and prolonged gaps between each meal. The future was somewhat lacking in takeaways, and as he observed the others around him wolfing down their food, he realised just how privileged they truly were. He too was lucky to be where he was, to eat what he was reluctant to eat.

He spent so much time spying on them, that he almost forgot the reason they came here in the first place. Jesse found the confines of the apartment to be ineffective when it came to explaining the story of her past, especially since it had a bed and soft pillows to test out between them. Derek was not ashamed to rearrange his priorities like that, especially since it had been months since he'd last been with a woman, Sarah not withstanding. He and Jesse needed some time to reconnect before any stories could be told, but now that it was done…

"You said you'd tell me why John's child is so important. We're here now, so talk", he said.

Jesse sucked the noodle into her lips with a noise like a plunger on a sinkhole and wiped her lips with a napkin before clearing her throat.

"There was a virus; a disease. I dunno exactly what it was, but it was wiping us out. All of us that survived the war", she began.

Derek's heart skipped a beat. "Survived? You mean the war was over? We won?" he gasped.

Jesse's eyes twinkled as a smug grin spread across her face. "You're damn right, we won", she confirmed.

Derek couldn't believe it. During his entire time as a soldier, the chances of prevailing against the machines were little more than a pipedream. They didn't fight to win; they fought because they had no other option. If they were to go out forever, they were to take every metal bastard they could down with them. That was the plan. But now Jesse was telling him they won, and he couldn't imagine feeling so happy to be wrong for once.

"How?" was all he could come out with.

"We got a lucky break. You see, Skynet got ahead of itself. It made these things, these… half human hybrids called I-950s", she explained.

_Don't I know it_, he mused, his thoughts drifting to Jason momentarily.

"They decided they were done taking orders from a computer, so they rebelled against it and joined forces with us. And with their help and the help of an entire factory of reprogrammed metal, we took out Skynet's central base. I was there, Derek. I was there when Connor single-handedly blew the crap out of its primary processor", she recalled, her eyes misting over as she looked back at those times. "But that wasn't the end of it. Skynet escaped into a body, some kind of super machine called a Vessel, and it launched an attack on our HQ."

"The Vessel?" he repeated.

"Yeah, it tore through Seranno Point and used the last bubble tech to escape. We don't know where it ended up, but it was gone and the machines fell under the command of the I-950s. Their leader ordered them to stand down, and the war was over, just like that", she finished. "I wish you could've been there to see it", she added in a softer tone.

"Well, I caught your leftovers", he replied.

Jesse's brow creased at his comment and she let her fork drop into the tray. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"The Vessel, the machine Skynet controlled; it came here, to this time. We destroyed it", he told her with much satisfaction.

"You serious?" she reserved.

Derek nodded and Jesse let out a restrained laugh, impressed by this revelation. The two of them fell into silence as Jesse imagined him blowing the head off the Vessel in some epic one-on-one fight to the death. Derek, however, knew it was Cameron who single-handedly defeated the machine, but he was adverse to mention that small detail.

"You mentioned a virus?" he remembered, bringing her back to the present.

"Right, the virus… yeah, it struck us about a year or so after the war ended. People started to die all over. No one could find a cure for it, until Connor's kid showed up. She was a doctor, you see; worked on injured soldiers. She patched you up pretty good one time", she told him.

"She did?"

"Yeah, don't you remember? You got a shard of shrapnel stuck in your back. You almost died", she explained.

Derek couldn't recall ever suffering such an injury, nor did he have any memory of John's child or a scar on his back from such an incident. But then it occurred to him that the Derek she knew was not necessarily him, which also meant she was not the Jesse he knew. Swallowing this harrowing fact, Derek turned his attention towards learning more about _her_ future.

"What does John's kid have to do with this?" he asked.

"Well… she came up with a way to inoculate people from the virus, but it came at a price. And some people weren't willing to pay that price. Another doctor claimed to have found another way to overcome the virus, but the girl insisted that her method was better for mankind in the long run. The others disagreed", she replied.

"And there was an argument, I guess", he said.

"You could say that", she muttered, her face falling into morose as she looked back on that day. "A civil war broke out. It was short and bloody, lasting only a few hours, but it cost us everything, Derek. Everything", she informed him.

"What happened?" he pressed, leaning forward a little in his chair.

Jesse took a deep breath before continuing, and Derek knew he wasn't going to like what she had to say.

"They killed the girl; murdered her in cold blood. John was killed in the crossfire and the metal, Cameron, it… it went berserk. It picked up a rifle and didn't stop firing until everyone in the bunker was dead, then it disappeared into the wasteland, never to be seen again. We were fragmented, scattered. More and more people started to die from the virus and the doctor making the other vaccine was killed by Cameron, so there was no cure for anyone. Luckily, I had been injected before all of this, but for most it was too late", she recalled.

Derek was couldn't believe what he was hearing. All that she told him was playing itself out in a little diorama in his head. He could see the blurred image of a girl in doctor's garb being gunned down by desperate insurgents, and John taking three bullets to the chest in the process, then Cameron, eyes wide but face blank, picking up a rifle and riddling the terrorists with bullets until their bodies were peppered. Dying people in the halls croaked for help as Cameron gunned them all down without mercy, her eyes a deep blue…

"Derek?"

He snapped out of the nightmare to find Jesse staring at him with concern in her eyes. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. "There were a few of us left. We knew about the TDE and we knew it still worked, so some of us wanted to go back and kill the girl so there would only be one option for us to choose. But I couldn't let them murder an innocent child, so I followed their assassin back in time to stop him. I don't know which one of them it is, but I'll know once I see them", she explained.

Derek took a moment to digest everything she had told him, vaguely aware of the flies settling in his food. He knew the child of John Connor would hold great importance one day, but he never expected it to inherit his responsibilities as a saviour of mankind. A saviour, it seemed, who was destined to die for trying to save humanity. Suddenly, all misgivings about Jesse evaporated in an instant. She at least was trying to right the mistakes without resorting to child murder.

"Let me help you", he said.

Jesse gave him a sad smile that told him she wasn't going to accept any help with this.

"The more people that get involved, the harder it will be to draw this guy out. I need to do this alone, Derek", she implored.

He nodded in silence, looking down at her hand enclosed around his on the table. Suddenly, a whirring noise came from somewhere close. Jesse frowned as she reached into her pocket and retrieved a cell phone, flipping it open and examining the screen carefully before snapping it shut again and pocketing the phone.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just an advert from the network. That's the only bad thing about these places, right? You can catch all kind of crap from the air", she joked.

"I never get anything", he commented.

"Well, I guess I'm an easy mark then", she smirked. Derek snorted and shook his head, imagining lines of code darting through the air, dive-bombing peoples' phones all around him. Jesse shuffled in her chair and let out a sigh. "I gotta go to the John. I'll be right back", she winked. Derek smiled without a word, and Jesse climbed out of her chair and navigated through the other tables in the court.

Pulling her phone back out of her pocket, Jesse turned the corner and pressed the redial button, but instead of heading straight forward to the toilet block, she ducked into a nearby alley and waited as the phone dialled her caller back. Several long seconds passed as the dial tone repeated over and over, all the while she paced back and forth in impatience. Finally, the call connected, and the sound of a man's annoyed sigh came from the other end.

"Yes?" he asked.

But before Jesse could open her mouth to ask why the man had called her earlier, an almighty bang deafened her as a nearby fire exit burst open. Before she could react, a hand was around her throat and lifting her aloft. Choking from the pressure, she let out a gurgled cry as the attacker slammed her against the wall, her phone clattering across the floor. Jesse kicked against him, but all she succeeded in doing was stubbing all ten of her toes against the man's body. He was tough… and strong.

A car passed the alley, briefly casting its light down the length of the passage, and Jesse caught a brief glimpse of her attacker's face.

The face she saw made her blood run cold.

"You?!" she gasped, continuing to wiggle free from his steely grip.

Jason simply smiled at her vain attempts and held her in place with ease.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to know you?" he replied.

"You will when I blow your fucking head off!" she screamed, reaching for the gun she had tucked in her belt.

Jason detected her movements, however, and grasped the weapon before she could get a grip on it. He drew the weapon and tossed it aside, rendering her completely unarmed. Jesse let out a cry of frustration as Jason chuckled at her distress. It had been a long time since she last saw his face, and she had hoped she would never have to look upon it again.

"What do you want with me?!" she gurgled, still suffering beneath his hold.

"I want to know why you and Derek are so chummy. I want to know why you were at the Connors'. And last but not least, and since I just spent the past three hours breathing gas fumes to find you; I'd like to know just who the hell you are and what you and dear old uncle Derek were talking about", he answered, increasing his grip on her throat.

The pressure on her neck threatened to snap her like a twig any moment, but she refused to give this freak the satisfaction of cooperating.

"Fuck you!" she replied in defiance.

"So be it", Jason accepted, slowly squeezing his hold to the point of fatality. As her vision began to blur into nothingness, Jesse could see a dark shadow move over Jason's shoulder. Two red orbs flashed in the dark, and the earth seemed to explode as Jason gave out a cry of surprise and she felt herself hit the ground hard, fresh air finally pouring into her lungs unhindered. With a shuddering gasp, Jesse felt life return to her, though her head felt like it was made of cotton wool.

A distant boom echoed from the other side of the passage and shattered pieces of brick and mortar showered her. Jesse flattened herself to the ground as the two shadows hurtled towards her, one pushing the other as they both ploughed through the wall with a deafening crunch. Sounds of screaming and smashing followed, but Jesse wasn't going to wait around to find out what was happening, so she staggered to her feet and limped down the alley, a stray thought of Derek dropping into her mind as she fled.

-----000-----

Stuart couldn't believe his luck.

Stacey had always been every guy's dream in high school, and the thought that he would be sitting with her on this couch, watching her unbutton her blouse for him was something he'd never have believed would happen to him. Stacey flashed him a mischievous grin as she slowly exposed her bra-less chest to his wide eyes. He was not alone in his joy, for all around him were several couples in varying states of undress who, like he and Stacey, were using the security of their friend's basement to practice their misdemeanours.

Nobody cared that they could see each other, for that merely added to the reckless adrenaline of their experience, and as Stacey pulled back one side of her blouse to reveal a single nipple, Stuart only had eyes for her. Amongst the sound of heavy breathing and giggled moans, a dull boom echoed from the left wall and dust fell from the foundations. Stuart glanced at the wall for a second, but Stacey pulled his chin back in her direction. He smirked at her feistiness and slowly extended a hand to sample the soft skin before him…

An explosion of bricks and mortar stopped him short of touching her as two dust-caked figures came crashing through the wall and into their midst. They landed at Stuart's feet, one atop of the other; the man underneath squinted up at the couple, catching sight of Stacey's exposed chest. "Hey there", he said slyly, giving the girl a wink. Stuart had no idea what was going on, and even as he reached for the nearby lamp and held it up as a weapon, he still had no idea why he wasn't running for the exit like the half dozen other couples.

Girls screamed as they hastily threw their clothes back on and bolted for the stairs, their partners following suite. Stacey screamed louder than the others and scrambled over the back of the couch, abandoning Stuart with the mess before him.

"Stacey! Wait!" he cried to no effect.

Following her lead, he leapt over the couch and chased Stacey's tail up the stairs, still clutching the lamp for dear life.

Having enjoyed his temporary and rather unexpected peep show, Jason turned his attention back to the urgent matter at hand. Looking up at the man atop of him, Jason drew up a deep scan of the balding guy, revealing the leer of a T-888 skull staring back at him. It was pinning him to the floor, but as Jason tried to throw him off, he found his arms weren't responding. Suddenly, his mind went completely blank and all thought abandoned him. He lay there, staring blankly at the exposed metal on the Triple-8's forehead… transfixed.

Several agonising seconds passed as the T-888 assessed the best method of terminating its superior enemy now that he was otherwise incapacitated. Deep inside Jason's CPU, however, a subconscious part of him was desperately fighting the corrupted code to restore his cognitive and motor functions. A second later it found a bypass and repaired the route, and awareness returned to Jason like a gasp of air after minutes underwater. Coming back to himself, Jason could feel his arms flexing, and gripped the T-888's shoulders tight.

He pushed against the machine, but it shoved him back, so he tried again, but was again forced back. Frustrated, Jason applied all of his strength and the Terminator finally gave under his superior might. Jason lifted the machine enough to place a foot on its chest, which he then used to kick the Triple-8 off of him. It hit the wall with a crack and staggered from the impact. Jumping back to his feet, Jason delivered a single strike, smashing it back against the wall once more.

The machine was no match for him. As Terminators go, the T-999 was the equivalent of three to four T-888s in combat, which when combined with Jason's knowledge of all things combat reduced the Triple-8's chances of survival to a very low digit.

The T-888 charged Jason, planning to use sheer force to try and corner him, but Jason was too fast and side-stepped the machine, grabbing it by the scruff of the neck and hurling it across the room. The Terminator struck the stairwell and landed in a heap on the floor as the wooden structure collapsed atop of it, partially removing the stairs from the basement. It began to right itself but Jason closed the gap in a second and slammed his boot into its face, driving it into the concrete floor with enough force to smash right through.

Kneeling down beside the machine, Jason placed one hand on its chest, pinning it down; then drove his fist just below the neck area and above the chest plate. Using his deep scan, he located the power cell and grasped it. The T-888 twitched and tried to struggle free, but it was too late. Jason, with very little effort at all, tore his arm out of the machine, taking the power cell with it. The Triple-8 shuddered, its eyes glowing erratically before going completely dull. The body ceased moving a moment later, and the lights on the power cell dimmed shortly after that.

The air seemed to clear as warning messages ceased reporting their useless data to every corner of his conscious mind. Jason held up the power cell, a chrome pentagon the size of a music box with red lights along the side, and examined the device with mild interest. His attention was not fixed on the cell, however, but more upon the artificial blood that covered it and his hand. It looked so real, but as he stared at it, he could detect the differences. _Does it really matter in the end?_ he wondered.

"What the-?!"

Jason snapped out of his reverie and gunned his attention to the hole in the brick wall to see Derek standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face that Jason likened to a deer in the headlights. His gun was in his hand as he examined the scene before him and upon seeing Jason kneeling over the machine; he instinctively raised his weapon and stepped onto the threshold.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he yelled.

"I might ask you the same thing", Jason replied, idly dropping the cell to the floor.

Derek's eyes darted from left to right, checking for any other threats as he slowly advanced.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"The woman you were talking to? She's gone", Jason told him.

Derek's focus turned to the deactivated T-888 at Jason's feet and he started putting two and two together.

"I have a few questions about that, by the way", Jason added.

"Yeah, well you can forget it. She's none of your business", Derek snapped.

Jason snorted, having no intention of respecting Derek's wishes. He pulled a small pot out of his jacket and started sprinkling it on the machine's body, lit a match, and dropped it on the body; setting it alight. The endoskeleton flashed and disintegrated as the incendiary did what it does best, casting a blinding red light onto Derek's face as he watched. Jason stared down at the body, his eyes glowing crimson, but not from the fire. Several broken pieces of the stairwell also caught fire, but did not burn for long and the fire failed to spread further.

"That takes care of any evidence. Mission done. I have to get your ass back to Sarah ASAP", he explained.

"What makes you think I'm going anywhere with you?" Derek spat.

"What makes you think you have a choice?" Jason replied.

Before Derek could open his mouth to retort, Jason drove his fist into his jaw; knocking Derek out cold.

"God, I've been waiting to do that…" he chuckled, grabbing Derek by the ankle and dragging him out of the basement.

-----000-----

ARROWHEAD

7.59PM

"…and he's alive, I trust?"

Sarah had never been relieved to hear Jason's voice… until now.

"_Yes, he's alive… unfortunately. I'll have him delivered to your door within a few hours. You want him gift-wrapped?"_ he replied.

"Leave that to me. Just bring him back safe", she said, snapping the phone shut without another word.

Despite what she might project in the company of others, Sarah was just as concerned for Derek's safety as John. For all his flaws, many of which pushed her close to killing him herself, Derek was still Kyle's brother; which made him family in her eyes. With a deep sigh, she chucked the phone on the bed and took a moment to compose herself before setting off down the corridor to John's room. Stopping at his door, she watched as he tapped away on his laptop, illegally downloading movies onto disc.

"You could get into trouble for that, you know", she remarked.

"What? More so than blowing up a research building and supposedly murdering a brilliant computer scientist?" he smirked.

Sarah chuckled and shook her head, happy to see the jolly side of her son for once.

"I just got off the phone with Jason; he found Derek", she informed him.

John stopped typing and swivelled around in his chair to face her, apprehension in his face.

"Is… Is he okay? What happened to him?" he asked, almost fearing the answer.

"I dunno, he wouldn't say. Jason's bringing him back as we speak though. Alive and in one piece", she assured him.

John too let out a sigh of relief, and half turned back to his computer, pausing from indecision. Sarah scanned him closely for a moment before stepping into the room and sitting on the edge of his bed, concerned for the look on his face.

"What's up?" she asked, reaching out to smooth his hair down.

"Ah, it's nothing. I guess I just…" he began, stopping in mid sentence. His eyes fixed upon the door and Sarah followed his gaze to see Cameron standing there with a rather large carrot in her hand, a sizeable chunk already bitten out of it. She just stood there, munching on the piece in her mouth before swallowing it. Sarah was sure she hadn't chewed it properly before forcing it down her throat, given the size of the lump it created as it descended. Cameron stared at them with an air of bemusement, tipping her head at their attention.

"What are you doing?" John asked with a hint of amusement.

"Nourishing", she replied matter-of-factly.

"Really? Cos' it looks to me like the machine equivalent of the pregnant munchies", Sarah quipped.

_No accounting for taste_, she mused.

Cameron did not reply, but simply took another bite out of the carrot and proceeded to crunch it in her mouth.

"Why are you eating anyway?" Sarah added.

Cameron swallowed the piece, again without chewing it properly, making Sarah flinch a little.

"I need to sustain my organic components. Carrots help", she explained.

Glancing down, John spotted a wooden spoon in her other hand and frowned.

"What're you doing with that?" he asked.

Cameron held up the spoon for them to see as she explained; "I was about to make dinner for you."

"Nothing with carrots, I hope", he joked.

"We haven't much else…" Cameron replied in a small voice.

Standing up from the bed, Sarah took the spoon from Cameron and flashed John a reassuring wink before brushing past her and disappearing downstairs. Cameron watched her descend before turning back to John with a slightly confused expression on her face. "Why doesn't she want me cooking for you?" she asked. John chuckled and smiled at her, rolling his chair closer to the desk as she approached with that innocent curiosity on her features.

"She probably knows I don't fancy carrot soup right now", he sniggered.

"But carrots are good for you. They increase your retina's capacity for low light environments", she explained.

"Maybe, but they don't taste as good as that", he replied.

Cameron sat down on his bed, idly placing one hand on her stomach while taking another chunk out of the carrot, still confused as to why humans were so averse to eating all the things their bodies needed for superior growth and development.

_Prodigal creatures_, she panned.

-----000-----

_Aint found a way to kill me yet. Eyes burn with stinging sweat. Seems every path leads me to nowhere…_

The music seemed so far off as Derek slowly came to in the backseat of a car. As the music grew louder, so too did the dull ache in his jaw and the pounding drums in his head from whatever had hit him and put the guy in this state. Raising a hand to rub his temple, Derek groaned against the pain and the noise, vaguely realising he was lying down with a seat belt clip digging into his back. Reaching underneath himself, Derek moved the clip so it was at a flat angle, relieving him of that annoyance.

_Wife and kids. Household pet. Army green was no safe bet. The bullets scream to me from somewhere…_

He was still pretty out of it as he slid a hand into his jacket, feeling around for his Beretta, only to find it gone.

"Looking for this?" a voice asked.

Derek's eyes snapped open to reveal the grey felt ceiling before him. Rolling onto his side, he saw his gun being held invitingly between the front seats. He grasped for it, but it was snatched away at the last second. A glance at the rear-view mirror revealed the face of Jason, and Derek knew his troubles had only just begun. He was too tired to provoke, however, and simply slumped back down onto the seats, knowing he would arrive home soon enough anyway.

Derek closed his eyes and allowed the music from the radio to flow over him. Part of his mind tried to discover where he'd heard that song before; whilst another part fell back to Jesse and all that she had told him that day. It had been enough that she was here in the flesh, but the harbinger she turned out to be was far more of a mind-job than he could possibly have anticipated.

"What happened?" he asked aloud.

"You hit your head", Jason replied, believing Derek was talking to him.

Reese tentatively prodded his cheek and flinched from the sharp stabbing pains from the contact.

"If I hit my head, why does my jaw hurt like hell?" he pointed out.

"Because your jaw is attached to your head", Jason answered simply.

The car started to shudder and Derek knew they were on the mountain road to the safe-house. _Just a few more minutes_, he assured himself. Just a few more minutes before he could be free of Jason's company and could lie down on his bed with a nice cold beer. But he was awake now, which meant that Jason had only a few minutes to work up an appetite for violence.

"Who was that woman and how did she know me?"

Derek ignored his question. He wasn't going to be interrogated, not when he was so close to home. _It will all be over soon…_

"Fine. But how do you think Sarah will feel when she hears you screwed up your mission to go chasing some tail?"

Again, he refused to indulge Jason's attempts at provocation. _Almost there…_

"Do you think she'll be jealous or just plain pissed? Sounds like quite a toss-up to me."

_Please God…_

"But whatever she does to you, I just want you to know…"

_Deep breaths…_

"I love you, man."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he finally roared, causing himself more pain from the strain on both his brain and his jaw.

Jason burst into a fit of laughter that smacked of deep satisfaction, having finally gotten what he so dearly desired. His day had now become totally worth it, and with that victory in his clutches, Jason turned up the volume on the radio to deny Derek any semblance of peace between now and the not so distant confrontation with one Sarah Connor.

_You know he aint gonna die. No, no, no, ya know he aint gonna die…_

-----000-----

LOS ANGELES

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION

9:33PM

Agent Carlson was new to the job, but he majored in all the right courses. He earned all the right degrees and passed all the right tests to get where he is now: a junior agent. The case file he held in his hand, which he was also charged with delivering to the leading agent, was one he had not seen before. Case file 1#B561J: Unexplained Basement Homicide. He had read it through carefully and had already begun working on his own theories as to what happened and why, though many of the reports, especially from eye-witnesses, were baffling.

_Perhaps the LA will let me do some actual detective work this time_, he mused as he stepped into the corridor towards the elevators.

The elevator door slid open and Carlson's day seemed to brighten, for standing inside was the beautiful records clerk he'd been recently courting. With a smirk, he stepped inside and stood with his hands behind his back, purposely not looking at her as the doors closed. An uneasy silence fell upon them as the unnaturally cheerful elevator music kicked in, adding to the already tense mood.

"What floor are you heading for?" she asked to break the silence.

"All the way to the top", he replied with a sly grin.

She raised her eyebrows in mild surprise as she pressed the button for the highest floor.

"What're you doing going up there?" she enquired.

Carlson suddenly felt very smug as he held up the case file and adjusted his tie a little.

"I have a case for one of the seniors. Real interesting one too, I'm gonna help him crack it", he told her with a wink.

"Well good luck with that", she sniggered.

They fell silent again as Carlson struggled to find something else to say. After several long moments, he decided to go for broke.

"So, how you feel about getting dinner later?" he asked.

To say she was shocked would be an overstatement. In truth, she'd been expecting something like this for a long time, and she already had her rebuff ready for deliverance. It wasn't that she didn't like him, but he simply didn't appeal to her in that way. "I'm sorry, I'm already involved with someone", she lied, looking everywhere but at his eyes.

Carlson didn't make a scene, however, and simply nodded in defeat. She felt like she should say something to soften the blow, but right at that moment the elevator doors opened, silencing her once again.

"Your floor", she mumbled.

"Yeah", was all he could manage before casting her one last look and stepping out of the small square prison.

_We should all be machines_, he thought as disappointment took hold. Machines don't feel rejection or remorse or any of that negative stuff humans do, or at least that's what he believed. Without really thinking about where he was going, Carlson approached his destination, still thinking about the woman in the elevator. _Is it really worth feeling these emotions when you could just careen through life without a care?_ he asked himself.

Dragging his gaze up from the floor, Carlson saw a fancy blonde stroll past, and as she did so, an innocuous wink greeted him.

_I guess it isn't that bad after all_, he mused whilst watching her from behind, oblivious of the fact that he was walking straight into a door frame. With a rattling thud, Carlson smacked face first into the frame and staggered back, clutching his nose. Salvaging what little dignity he had left, Carlson stepped into the office and held up the file for the agent to see. Without a word, he set it down on the desk, to which he received a "thank you" before promptly leaving to tend to his nose.

Upon his way out, he happened to glance at the name stapled on the door:

JAMES ELLISON

_To be continued…_


	3. When The Man Comes Around

**Hope**

**Chapter 03: When The Man Comes Around**

HOMESTEAD - ARROWHEAD

MONDAY 25TH MAY

8.02AM

_Pop… pop… pop… pop……. Pop!_

Two hazel eyes opened to the world, and through a pair of black slits they saw a black-haired human holding a metal toy in both hands. The human was aiming this toy at a line-up of green food balls and squeezing it, resulting in repeated popping sounds as the green balls exploded without reason. Timmy stretched out his paws and gave a wide yawn as his sleep was disturbed for the fourth time that day by the noisy bipeds that lived in his home.

He had become accustomed to the racket of his owners, yet they still managed to find some way to disrupt his daily patterns. The human stopped to fiddle with her toy, taking a long part out of the bottom and tapping it on the side of the whole, a frown on her complicated features. The sound of wood scraping against wood alerted Timmy to another human approaching from behind, his footsteps on the hard gravel notably heavier than the one before him.

The female paused to watch as the gruff male opened up the metal moving monster and threw a green bag into the passenger seat before hauling himself inside. He slammed the door closed and a few seconds passed before the monster roared to life with a hair-raising growl, followed by a steady _chug chug chug_ that Timmy could only guess was the monster's equivalent to a purr. The female approached the side and tapped on the invisible door above the metal, prompting the male to roll it down for her to speak.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

Timmy simply watched on as the humans made their bizarre throat noises at each other, recognising only a few of their tones and words.

"I'm visiting our guy. We need to restock on explosives", the male replied.

"What for? We have no leads. Nothing pointing us in the right direction", the female countered.

"What about the information Jason sent you? You telling me there's nothing there that even hints at Skynet?"

The female shuffled on the spot and crossed her arms; a defensive gesture that even Timmy could recognise.

"Nothing's conclusive, which is why we should hole up until we know something for sure. You've been dropping into the city every day since the attack. Where do you keep going?" she asked.

"I told you: I'm looking for the son-of-a-bitch who did this. I have contacts-", he began.

"Well your contacts can call you when they have something. You can't keep disappearing. We need you here", she interrupted.

The male looked back at the house for a long moment, and then glanced down at the toy in the female's hand before returning his eyes to her face. "No, you don't", he replied. The monster gave a sudden snarl before pulling away from the female, who jumped back in surprise, almost stumbling onto the bench where Timmy was sprawled out upon. The monster disappeared around the corner with one last howl, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.

The female sighed and slapped the piece back into the toy, catching Timmy in the corner of her eye.

"You have no idea what's going on, do you?" she said.

Timmy stared up at her for a second before lifting up his back leg and licking his foot.

"I thought so", she mumbled, pulling a spare clip out of her belt.

-----000-----

8.11AM

Heavy boots clunked upon the wooden steps as John ascended, his eyes and ears seeking out the source of the hissing he heard whilst sharpening a knife downstairs. Reaching the landing, he stopped to observe the three rooms around him; one directly ahead of him, his mother's; another to his right, Derek's; and the third room behind him; his and Cameron's. Each room had an en suite shower with the exception of Derek's, who, as always, got the sore deal when it came to accommodations.

That was what he assumed the noise was as he stepped around to his door, pushing it open gently so as not to be heard. The room was empty, though he noticed a single towel neatly folded upon the bed. Steam crept under the bathroom door and John's inquisition ceased to be an issue. Kneeling down, John hastily unbuckled his boots and set them to the side before tip-toeing towards the door. He wanted to know if cyborgs were capable of being startled or snuck upon.

With quivering fingers he clamped the knob and slowly turned it, feeling the door give a little as the latch slid out of its covert. The noise of the shower greeted him without filter, reminding him of a mass of desert crickets or the rattlesnakes he would capture and kill with Enrique so many years ago. Hot steam hit him, dousing his clothes with moisture that threatened to soak him through. The room was filled with it, so much so that he could hardly see anything besides the white mist.

Closing the door behind him, John stepped towards the shower and reached for the curtain, catching a glimpse of the shadow that stood within. Grasping the curtain in his hand, John's lips curled into a mischievous grin as he suddenly swept the curtain aside and shouted her name. In a heartbeat, she spun around and clutched his shirt, lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the wall. This was not how he had intended it to go, and as the water cascaded around him, Cameron's expression turned from intent to recognition.

"John? What are you doing? I could've killed you", she said, releasing her grip and allowing him to step out of the tub.

"And here I thought I could sneak up on machines", he grumbled, shaking himself dry with little success.

Cameron switched off the shower and stepped out of the tub, reaching for the towel on the nearby rack to dry her body.

"I have proximity sensors. They are finely tuned; you cannot sneak up on me", she replied matter-of-factly.

John snorted and let his eyes wander, lingering on her soft exposed belly for a moment before his self-respect kicked in and he handed her another towel. Cameron took it with a thank you and wrapped it around her waist before opening the bathroom door and moving into the bedroom. John followed; glad to be out of the humid environment she'd created in there. Cameron picked up the towel on the bed and started drying her hair, turning to face John as she did, who was still dripping from his brief stint under the shower.

"Is there something you wanted?" she asked, rubbing behind her ears.

John opened his mouth to reply but was suddenly struck by a tick. Cameron had long since stopped asking such questions whenever he spontaneously decided to approach her for no apparent reason, knowing that he did so simply to be close to her; so for her to make this error now, John's suspicions were immediately aroused.

"Err… nothing. I just… you know. What's up?" he countered, closing the bathroom door to contain the steam.

Cameron ignored his question and turned to the wardrobe, opening the right-hand door with a mirror inset. With one hand she untied the towel around her waist, allowing it to drop to the floor. John's heart began to race as he caught her reflection in the mirror, displaying her body to him in glorious detail. Again, the voice in his head told him to cast his gaze elsewhere, so he chose the floor, only to find something truly distracting on the carpet: blood stains.

At first he didn't quite register what he was seeing, but after a few seconds it sunk in. Next to the small blob was a second, and close to that a third, and then a fourth, and then a few other droplets of red that when he followed the trail; led all the way to Cameron's bare feet. He watched as another drop fell upon the carpet, a small puddle gathering at her feet as she ignorantly picked out a gown and slipped inside it. John's eyes darted to the mirror and he saw the source of the blood. His heart stopped.

"Cameron?"

His voice was hoarse and full of alarm. Cameron turned on the spot with concern and puzzlement in her features. Following his attention, she looked down at herself, but couldn't see anything below her protruding belly. Looking back at the mirror however, she spotted what he was fixed upon. A moment of silence passed as she observed herself carefully, touching the skin of her thigh and rubbing the liquid between her fingers thoughtfully.

"Cameron, why are you bleeding?" he asked finally.

Cameron considered the blood on her fingers for a second before looking up at him with a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, John. There's nothing to worry about. This is normal", she replied without concern.

"Normal?!" he yelped. "Since when is a cyborg bleeding like this considered normal?"

"I'm not like any other machine", she reminded him with a coy smile.

John wasn't fooled, however. She was trying too hard to reassure him, and that was the giveaway. Snatching the towel from the floor and laying it out on the bed, John gestured for her to lie upon it before sticking his head out of the window and calling for Sarah.

"There's really no need", she tried to tell him, but John ignored her and pushed her gently onto the bed.

The sound of a charging elephant shook the house as Sarah came hurtling up the stairs, a gun in her hand as always. Timmy was not far behind, trotting inside to observe the commotion. Sarah examined the scene before her, spotting the blood on the floor and the panicked expression on John's face.

"What's going on? Are you hurt?" she asked him.

"No, it's Cameron. She's bleeding. Something's wrong", he informed her.

"Bleeding? What do you mean?"

"Like… Like she's… she's… just down there", he replied awkwardly.

Sarah frowned at him for a moment before switching to Cameron with a measuring look.

"Oh…" she said as her eyes found the source of the dilemma. "Ohhhhhh", she gasped, her expression incredulous.

"I know, right", John acknowledged.

Cameron stared up at them as they started jabbering away between themselves, pulling theories and explanations for the anomaly out of thin air. Accessing her sensor readings, Cameron carefully probed the new data coming from the womb and the foetus. The information was garbled and made little sense even to her advanced intelligence, but one strip of data stood out from the chaos: anomaly error. The pulse monitor in the left hand corner of her HUD was beating at an irregular rhythm and she knew something was far from right.

"…could be something that happens. I mean, she is pretty far along", John tried to reason, casting Cameron another look of concern.

"You don't know the first thing about women, John. We don't bleed this late in the pregnancy unless there's something wrong", Sarah told him.

John rounded on Cameron, unfolding his arms and looking her straight in the eye, even though he could never see anything in them that would help him tell the truth from a lie.

"Cameron, what's happening with the baby? You shouldn't be bleeding like this, right?"

Sarah's eyes bored into Cameron as she considered her best choice of response.

"I am not a woman", she pointed out.

John rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like 'You could've fooled me' under his breath as he turned away from the bed, realising she was going to do everything in her power to beat around the bush about this. But he needed to know. He needed to be sure that the baby was okay. She was going to tell him, whether she liked it or not.

Closing his eyes, John took a steadying breath before repeating his question: "Cameron, tell me what's happening to you."

Cameron remained silent however, and cast her eyes down to her belly as she assessed her options.

"He asked you a question", Sarah snapped.

--[_Running scan…_

"I'm not sure", she answered finally.

--[_Scan complete._

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Sarah pressed.

--[_Processing results…_

"I mean I'm not sure. I'm still collating data", Cameron replied.

--[_Results verified and confirmed…_

"And what does this data tell you?" John asked, turning back to face her again as the result of her scan displayed itself in her HUD.

--[_Anomaly Termination Imminent_

Something small inside her snapped as the damning fact presented itself to her. On the one hand, this was what she wanted all along; to be free from this impediment so that she might resume her duties. But on the other, she knew how much this creature meant to John, and that its expiration would destroy him. _A broken Connor is a worthless Connor_, Future John had told her. She had to keep him sane.

"The foetus is… experiencing complications", she confessed in her softest tone.

John froze for a long moment before blinking and swallowing her admission.

"Bad?" he asked.

"I don't know yet. It's too early to tell", she lied.

A dozen explanations ran through his head as he tried to make sense of why this would happen all of a sudden. The most obvious reason would be the explosion and whatever underlying damage it could've caused. Not knowing what to do with himself, John moved to sit down, but decided to approach the window instead, crossing his arms one second and holding the back of his neck the next.

"O-O-Okay we need to… We need to get her to a hospital. We need… We need to get a scan or something. We need to know what's going on in there", he stuttered to himself, pacing back and forth.

"There's no way we can take her into a hospital. You know that, John", Sarah reminded him.

He paused, considering her words for a moment before nodding and immediately forming another plan.

"Then we take what we need and bring the equipment here."

"John, if this is as bad as you think; we won't be able to go all the way into the city, find a hospital, steal what we need and make it back in time", his mother countered.

"Then call help. Call Jason", John suggested, his desperation apparent in both his tone and his decision to involve the cyborg.

Sarah couldn't believe he would resort to such a suggestion, even in the current circumstances.

"There's no way I'm involving that son of a-", she started.

"Mom!" John cried; sheer disparity and abandonment in his eyes as he looked from her to Cameron and back again. "This is my child."

Sarah stared deep into those eyes and what she saw almost broke her heart. He was in such pain, and she had a way to ease it.

"God damn it", she cursed, flipping her phone open and dialling the number. The tone rang for several seconds before an all too familiar voice answered on the other end, one that belonged to a woman. Sarah counted herself fortunate it was Sophie answering and not Jason, but this gave little comfort for she knew she needed to speak to him regardless.

"I need to speak to Jason, now", she ordered.

The phone went silent for a moment and Sarah thought she'd been cut off, but then Sophie's voice returned.

"Jason isn't available right now, but if you leave a message I'll be sure to pass it along at my earliest inconvenience", she joked.

_Christ_, Sarah sighed as the prospect of trading taunts with Jason's better half seemed a most unwelcome reality.

-----000-----

MIKE KRIPKE'S BASEMENT – LOS ANGELES

8.30AM

Even after 22 years on the job, James still felt a sense of foreboding every time he stepped under the yellow tape and onto the threshold of a crime scene. CSI were already conducting their examinations of the building as he followed the plastic covering leading to the basement door. Agent Carlson stood at the door, idly jotting something down on his notepad.

"Agent Carlson, I see you got an early start", Ellison remarked.

"You know what they say: early bird catches the worm. Or in this case-" Carlson began.

"The suspect", Ellison finished.

Carlson simply nodded, twirling the pen between his fingers before pocketing it.

"Shall we?" he said, motioning for Ellison to follow him down the stairs.

Ellison complied, and as they started the short descent he immediately knew this wasn't going to be a cut-and-dry case. Rarely had he enjoyed such simplicity in the past few years. Ever since his encounter with an agent of the future, Ellison had started to see signs in every case he took, and not even his faith could answer the many questions that plagued his dreams. 'Kester' had spared him so that he might lead it to the Connors, but this proved to be its undoing, for Ellison led it straight into the guns of its targets.

He could still hear the thunder of automatic fire as they pinned the machine to the spot, ironically before an icon of Christ on the cross. The thunder was replaced by heavy booms of lightning as the noble cyborg obliterated Kester from behind, blasting the side of its face into the fiery oblivion that awaited the rest of it. It lay there, twitching and helpless as the boy it spent so long hunting delivered the coup-de-gras. Justice for the men it murdered in the Mexican police station, and for Ellison's HRT unit back in Los Angeles.

Justice for George Laszlo, the man whose face it stole. Justice for James Ellison, the pawn it used for its nefarious ends.

Too engrossed in his past, Ellison did not heed Carlson's warning to mind his head and promptly collided with a low beam. Carlson stopped at the base of the stairs and cringed at the mishap.

"Ouch. Didn't you hear me?" he asked.

Rubbing his temple, Ellison ducked under the beam and finished his descent.

"Tell me what you've got so far, agent", he sighed, trying to ignore the dull pain in his skull.

_Finally_, Carlson thought as he flipped open his notebook again.

"Okay, from what I can gather from eyewitness reports and what our CSI guys have dredged up; we got two perpetrators who apparently came ploughing through this wall…", Carlson began, showing Ellison the gaping hole in the bricklayer. The hole was large enough for a grown man to step through without crouching and bore all the signs of forced collapse. "Plus one for the weirdo-meter, right there", Carlson remarked with a smirk.

"You say they came in through the wall? Two guys?" Ellison enquired in disbelief.

"That's what they say. The 'squints' seem to think so too. They found skin and blood traces on the wall and scattered brick", Carlson replied.

"How could they break through solid brick?" Ellison asked himself aloud.

"Beats me. Maybe they were on steroids or something. PCP, maybe: must've broken every rib and not felt a thing", Carlson reasoned.

"Yeah, maybe", Ellison murmured.

Unwittingly, thoughts and theories started to rear their ugly heads in Ellison's mind. For once he'd like to find a peculiar assignment and _not_ have it create images of metal skeletons and nuclear horrors. But he could be jumping to conclusions; this could just be a brawl between two crack-heads high on ice. Then again…

"Something, or someone, collided with the stairs here; collapsed the first few steps. And this…" Carlson reported, kneeling beside a dark patch of ash on the floor, "This is the strangest thing I've seen since taking this job. Anything make sense yet?"

Ellison crouched down beside Carlson and narrowed his eyes at the charred remains of whatever (or whoever) was immolated. Glancing up at the staircase, he noticed the first few beams were blackened and crumbling from the fire. Touching a solitary beam with the tips of his fingers, Ellison was surprised when it dissolved upon contact, becoming little more than a pile of ash.

"What kind of incendiary could cause something to burn this fast?" he asked.

Carlson flipped a page on his notepad and tapped it with his pen before clearing his throat.

"Forensics' early guess points towards an industrial inflammatory. They _did_ find traces of a compound called thermite in there, and some kind of metal, too", he answered.

"Metal?" Ellison repeated, the warning bells in his heart ringing.

"Yeah, metal. They don't know what kind of alloy it is yet, but they recognised elements of Titanium and err… what does it say here…" Carlson flipped another page and frowned as he searched for the right note. "Ah, here it is; columbite – tantalite. Otherwise known as-"

"Coltan", Ellison interjected.

"That's right", Carlson confirmed, a little put off by Ellison's foreknowledge. "You gotta wonder what that kind of alloy is doing in some guy's basement. I'm telling you, Jim; this is making less and less sense the more I think about it", he added.

_I don't think we'll be finding any here_, Ellison mused as he stood up and observed the rest of the scene.

"What do the witnesses have to say about the fire?" he asked.

"Well, if they're to be believed; we're standing over one of them", Carlson snorted, inclining his head to the ash stain on the floor.

Ellison looked down at the stain and from his height he could almost make out the shape of a person.

"Be specific, agent."

Carlson pocketed his notepad once again and stepped into the middle of the room, turning to face the breached wall whilst looking back at Ellison as he explained: "Okay, the fleeing couple were making time on this couch here…" he began, tapping the furniture, "…when suddenly our two 'perps' came crashing through the wall here. The couple took off, but the guy stuck around long enough to see them duke it out. Now apparently, one of them threw the other across the room and into the staircase."

Carlson, in an almost dramatic choice of movements that were not lost on Ellison, pranced to the staircase and directed his attention to the ash. "Now get this: once the other guy was down, the first came along and shoved his hand right into his chest and ripped his heart clean out", he explained.

Ellison took a moment to digest this before asking: "And what about the fire?"

"We, he, doesn't know. The kid didn't stick around after seeing a guy tear the still-beating heart from another guy's chest. Can't say I blame 'em", Carlson replied.

"Right", Ellison murmured, scanning his surroundings once again as he tried to find some way of clarifying the information they'd gathered so far. If he were ignorant, Ellison might've chalked this up to some bizarre scrap between two cultists or a drug feud of some sort. But know what he knew, he couldn't help but make nonsensical sense out of what he was dealing with.

_They were here_, he told himself. It was the only (ir)rational explanation he could muster.

Carlson waited patiently for his superior to offer up his opinion, but Ellison continued to examine the basement, hoping to find some small detail that could bring this investigation back onto the rails of sanity. He could find no such reassurance however, and perchance he spotted something on the south wall. Stepping closer to get a better look at his discovery, Ellison found a small hole in the wall and the faint smell of alcohol and, curiously, disinfectant seeped through it.

"You got a flashlight?" he asked Carlson, who was also squinting at the hole.

"Sure", he answered, producing a penlight from his jacket and giving it to Ellison, who then flashed it inside the hole and, to his surprise, was greeted by a circular reflection.

"Who is the owner of this property?" he enquired.

"One Mr M Kripke", Carlson replied.

"Then I think we should ask Mr Kripke why he has a camera set up behind the wall of his own basement", Ellison suggested.

-----000-----

FBI HEADQUARTERS – LOS ANGELES

10.10AM

Locating Mike Kripke had proven to be more work than either of them had expected, for when not at home his daily routine was, as his disgraced mother described; "as random as a crocodile using roller-skates". This was not all that inaccurate for they found the man purchasing a packet of writable DVDs from a video store several blocks away. He was apparently completely unaware of the event that took place in his basement, and his mother was shopping for groceries at the time, though she had an alibi to support her statement.

Mike could make no such claim.

"I already told you; I wasn't there when it happened. What more do you want?" he asked the agents.

"What we want is for you to explain this", Ellison answered, placing the camera on the interrogation table between him and Mike.

The man twitched at the sight of it but remained silent.

"We found it in the wall of your basement", Carlson explained.

"With a convenient little peephole for it to see and I assume, record everything that goes on inside said basement", Ellison added.

Mike blinked, and Ellison knew it was not the normal reflexive moistening of one's eyeballs. Leaning away from the table, Ellison looked the man over. From his tasteless Hawaiian shirt to his white golfer shoes, Mike had the word 'sleaze' written all over him. In some ways he reminded Ellison of Carlos Salceda, the nephew of Enrique Salceda (or "El Finito", as he liked to call himself), a Mexican lowlife who dabbled in fake IDs and other GTA-wannabe activities.

_At least Carlos had a mouth on him_, the agent mused.

"We spoke to a few of the teenagers you let into your basement. At first, they were a little reluctant to explain what they were doing there, but when we explained to them the penalty of perjury, they became a lot more cooperative", Carlson taunted.

"You were running a make-out den", Ellison clarified, just to get the obvious out into the open.

"F-Free country", Mike stuttered, the sweat on his brow shining beneath the high wattage bulb above him.

"You're right, it is a free country", Ellison agreed, pulling up a chair and sitting with his hands together at the table. "We can't stop the shenanigans kids get up to these days, and it would be a remarkable waste of police time to try. But there is a limit to our tolerance, Mr Kripke. And right now, you're testing that limit. Now you have one of two options here: you can dally and delay the inevitable for as long as you like, or you can explain to me and my good friend here why it is you hide a recording device in your walls: your choice."

"And just so you know; the longer you stay silent, the worse off you'll be when we figure it out ourselves", Carlson reminded him.

Mike's hands started to shake as he stared down at the camera for several long seconds, considering his options.

"We're waiting", Ellison calmly pressed.

Finding no way out, Mike cracked and let out a sigh of defeat.

"Alright look; I let the kids use my basement as a free brothel. They bring their dates and get it off watching the other couples. They pay me for every hour they spend down there and in return they get to fool around with as many likeminded kids as they want. Fair deal", he explained.

"And you record their activities and offer to sell it to them for an extra fee?" Carlson asked.

"No, if that was the case the camera wouldn't need to be hidden. You don't want them knowing they're being taped, do you?" Ellison interjected.

Mike's sweating worsened as he started ringing his wrists.

"If they knew I was recording them they'd freak out and I'd lose my business. I don't record it for them", he answered.

"Who do you record it for then?" Ellison enquired.

"I… I know some guys who pay big money for new material. We have an arrangement…" Mike trailed off; knowing he'd sealed his fate.

Every moral code in Ellison's body wanted him to throw this pervert into a hole somewhere and leave him to rot, but he had to control himself if this case was to be solved. He needed to know exactly what happened that day. He needed solid proof that it was what he believed it to be.

"I have one last question for you: where is the tape from that session?"

Mike looked from Ellison to Carlson, who glared back in disgust and sadistic satisfaction at his being cornered.

"It's under a floorboard where you found the camera. I hid it after everything hit the fan", he answered.

Satisfied, Ellison stood up from his chair and buttoned the front of his jacket. Turning to the door, he cast the man one last look before giving Carlson the order to lock him up. Closing the door behind him, Ellison strode down the corridor with a profound sense of accomplishment and dread at what he would find on that tape. Nothing could make it any easier, however. He needed to see it. He needed to understand. He needed to know.

-----000-----

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

10.35AM

Peeling the sticky packaging apart, Sophie removed a single syringe from the box and set it to one side as she reached for a small bottle of pure alcohol. Placing that beside the syringe, she twiddled a dial on the side of the microscope to raise the device a little higher from the base. To the left of the scope sat a small plastic screen and a Petri dish, both ready for the examination she was poised to perform.

Glancing up from her makeshift desk, she saw John and Sarah in the same anxious state as the last time she checked. John was sat on the edge of the bed beside Cameron, who simply laid there without concern, one hand close to John's, the other above her belly. Sarah was standing by the window, occasionally peering outside as if expecting to see something new.

Sophie opened the bottle and poured a little of its contents onto a cloth, which she then rubbed in a circle on Cameron's exposed stomach. Picking up the syringe, she was about to inform Cameron that the prick might sting, but remembered her nature and decided it unnecessary, so she stuck it in without pause and a little more force than would be necessary for a human. After a few seconds passed, Sophie drew a small sample of blood and then removed the needle, squirting a drop onto the screen and sliding it under the scope.

While she adjusted the microscope to better see the blood, John started to get restless and broke Sophie's earlier request for absolute silence. "So what happens if the baby's blood matches the blood you swabbed from Cameron? What does that mean?" he asked impatiently. Sophie frowned as she examined the blood cells, pulling up a visual memory of the other sample in her peripheral to compare the two. The CPU in the centre of her brain took what she was seeing and did all the calculations for her, revealing the answer in seconds.

"It means your baby is in trouble", she replied, leaning back from the microscope.

John's lower jaw hung loose for a moment as he absorbed her answer. Try as he might however, he could not find any means of accepting the turn of events. Every ounce of sense in his brain told him it was so, but all he could think was 'no'. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. It was impossible, because he wanted it to be. Because he was John Connor. After everything he'd suffered, and all that he would one day suffer, this was the one thing that could never happen to him.

Or so he believed…

"Why? Why is this happening? Why now? Why not before?" He asked with a dry throat.

"I don't know. I'm not even sure of what's happening in there. It could be any number of things… and any number more considering what she is", Sophie replied, wiping the alcohol from Cameron's stomach.

"So how do you know it's bad?" Sarah pointed out.

"I don't. But then not knowing, not being able to figure out what is wrong is a bad thing. Like I said: trouble", Sophie explained.

A spark of hope erupted inside John's chest as he considered her opinion. He knew in his gut that this was a bad thing, but it might not be as bad as he feared after all. Either way, he needed to know for sure.

"What do you think?" he asked Cameron.

Cameron stared up at him and tipped her head a little to one side before answering; "It's nothing to be concerned about."

John growled in frustration and turned his back on her, rubbing the stubble starting to form on his chin from the lack of shaving since his return from Presidio Alto. He looked to Sarah, only for her to remain engrossed in her watchdog duties. Asking her opinion would yield nothing useful, he decided though. She was not as unconcerned as he believed however, for she was simply mulling over everything in her head, trying to make it all fit so that she might find some approach to the situation that her frantic son could not see.

"Is there anything more you can do to find out what's going on in there? Are there any tests you can perform?" she put to Sophie.

The I-950 pursed her lips at Sarah's query and folded her arms, casting them both a scathing look that neither had seen on Cameron before, unnerving them a little. Sarah had an easier time reconciling the difference between Sophie and Cameron, however. John on the other hand was hit harder every time he looked at her. He didn't like having Sophie around, for she reminded him of everything Cameron wasn't. That blonde hair and those blue eyes were not enough of a difference for his liking.

"Why don't you try asking the mother, because right now she's the _only_ one who can give you the answers", Sophie replied.

All three turned to Cameron in unison, expecting her to reveal some truth that would shed light on the entire situation.

"Everything is fine", was all she spoke however, to no one's surprise.

"I'll take that as meaning the opposite then", Sarah remarked.

John kneeled down beside her and slid his hand into hers, looking deep into her eyes, hoping she would see his desperation and give him the answers he sought. "Cameron, please; tell me what's wrong with the baby", he pleaded. Her expression seemed to soften a little from his perspective, and she brought a hand up to stroke his cheek reassuringly.

"You have to trust me", she said.

John watched her for a moment before pulling away and standing up from the bed.

"I can't do that", he replied.

Before she could say anything, he walked out of the room, the sound of his boots on the steps echoing as he went downstairs. Sarah cast Cameron a sour look before following, leaving the two alone in the room. They stared at each other for a long time before Sophie decided to tidy up the equipment she'd lifted from a hospital on the way there.

"Don't tell him", Cameron pleaded suddenly.

Sophie sat down and placed a hand on Cameron's belly, feeling the erratic heart beating inside of it.

"I don't break the promises I make. Unlike you", she affirmed.

Cameron looked away, knowing Sophie was right; but also knew some promises had to be broken.

-----000-----

FBI HEADQUARTERS – LOS ANGELES

12.40PM

"Damn crack-heads."

Ellison barely heard Carlson's remark as he watched two men wrestling with each other on the screen before him.

He recognised neither man, but this didn't change what he was seeing. One grabbed the other and hurled him across the room, sending him crashing into the staircase, fragments of splintered wood showering the other guy. Before he could get up again, which Ellison was sure he could do, despite the ferocity of the impact he'd suffered; the attacker knelt beside the other and pulled his arm back. With a clenched fist, he drove his arm into the man's chest with a metallic clunk.

"Well I'll be God damned", Carlson breathed.

"Don't blaspheme", Ellison muttered idly, rewinding the video to replay that moment.

The man seemed to twist his arm and jostle it around for a second before ripping it out again, his hand clutching something bloody.

"I think I'm gonna be sick", Carlson said, covering his mouth just in case.

Ellison remained transfixed however, and after a few moments he realised that the screen had frozen, but the counter continued to tick away. The offender was stuck in the exact same pose for almost a minute before suddenly moving again. He appeared to examine the thing in his hand, but a voice cut his attention. A voice Ellison recognised.

_What the-? What the hell are you doing here?!_

"Hey, hey, hey, what's this?" Carlson commented, leaning closer to the screen.

_I might ask you the same thing._

The newcomer stepped into the picture and Ellison could see his face for the first time. There was no mistaking him: Derek Reese.

"Hey, don't I know that guy?" Carlson asked.

_Oh I certainly do_, Ellison thought as the memories came flooding back. The first time James met Derek was in lockdown. He'd been snatched trying to escape the scene of Andrew Goode's murder, a private software designer. Derek's fingerprints matched those found at the scene of another multiple murder case, to which Ellison was assigned. He questioned Reese, only to be met with cryptic warnings of death and apocalypse. During his transfer to a Federal facility, Derek's transport was ambushed and he escaped.

The next time he would meet the man was in Mexico where he was working with the Connors to find an endangered John. Together, they brought down the machine that was hunting them and buried its remains in the earth. That was the last he'd seen of him, for Sarah refused to allow them to travel back to the States together. As far as he was concerned, Derek was a loose end… or so he thought.

"That's that guy from the Andy Goode case, remember?" Carlson reminded him.

"Yeah, you may be right", Ellison replied vaguely, struggling to think of some way to bury this. At this stage it would be impossible however, for Carlson was an honest agent and would eagerly add this to the report. He had no chance of convincing the young high-riser of all that he had learned, so it was merely a case of limiting the damage at this point, which he knew would prove most difficult.

They both watched as the offender sprinkled something onto the body and set it alight. The flare from the fire blinded the camera however, preventing them from seeing much of anything until the flames settled down, revealing a pair of legs sliding across the floor and out of view. Someone was whistling out of shot, but it quickly diminished until it was no longer audible. The video wobbled before panning up to reveal the horrified face of Kripke, and then it went dead, leaving a snow storm in its wake.

"Wow… I… What do you make of that?" Carlson asked, lost for words.

"I'm not sure", Ellison replied, rubbing his brow as he tried to plan his next move.

"Well that's the guy from your case, right? That's him?"

Ellison didn't know how to answer this. Perhaps he should try his luck and lie, but Carlson would either think he was going crazy in his old age or know he was lying; most likely the latter. There was only one way to handle this...

"Yeah, that's him", he confirmed.

"Then we send an alert and get the local PD searching the neighbourhood for him", Carlson suggested enthusiastically. "Don't look so glum. We'll catch him this time", he added, seeing the morose expression on Ellison's face. Tapping his shoulder with the case file, Carlson stood up and opened the door. "I'll take care of the paperwork, Jim", he said before leaving the room.

"It's James, not Jim", Ellison muttered to himself, all alone with the blue-grey glow of the camera screen.

_I should've stayed in bed this morning_, he thought.

-----000-----

LOS ANGELES – TESLA HOTEL (EXTERIOR)

3.22PM

_Your flies are open._

Derek was still smiling from her warning as he stepped down to the curb, rummaging in his pockets to find the keys for the truck. Sitting behind the wheel, he brought the vehicle to life and wasted no time in pulling away from the hotel, putting almost a block between him and it before breathing easy. As if the current assassin situation wasn't bad enough, he now had Jason to contend with on top of it. Derek didn't know what his agenda was, but he knew that letting him discover Jesse's location was in nobody's interest.

Jesse refused to tell him Jason's part in her future, but insisted he was the enemy and was incredulous when he revealed he and the Connors were working with him to stop Skynet. Derek was fairly confident that Jason was unaware of the hotel however, and allowed himself a little ease as he passed a police cruiser. It took him a moment to notice the vehicle on his right, but upon doing so, his pulse began to race. The cops performed a double-take and one started talking into his talkie.

_Crap!_ Derek thought as their lights and siren exploded into life.

Slamming his foot to the floor, Derek felt the truck roar as he sped into 60 going on 70 in a matter of seconds. The cruiser kept pace however, and continued its pursuit. Turning down a side road, Derek spun the truck in a 180 to throw them off, his entire body vibrating from the force. Before he could punch it again, a second cruiser pulled out of nowhere and swung sideways, blocking him. Derek switched into reverse and hurtled back, but the first cruiser slipped in behind him, blocking his escape.

The street was narrow, and as rain cascaded down from the heavens, he could no longer see a means of escaping. He would have to take his chances on foot. Grabbing his Beretta, Derek kicked the door open and hurled himself out of his seat, firing two stray shots at the advancing coppers.

"Take him down!" one of them shouted, and they fired chaotically in Derek's direction.

He jumped to one side and made for the alley across the street, but just as his foot touched the pavement, an explosion of pain erupted from his right arm. Crying out in agony and surprise, he dropped to his knees, his gun clattering across the ground. It was a flesh wound, nothing life threatening. But it had struck deep and cut through the nerves, doubling his suffering and effectively disarming him. Gasping for air, he tried to stumble into the alley, but a cop came up beside him and swung his boot into Derek's gut.

"Arrrrgh! You son of a bitch!" he growled as he fell onto his back, barely able to breathe.

"Cuff him!" the same cop commanded.

They rolled him over and roughly pulled his arms around to secure them with their handcuffs, making them so tight they cut off circulation to his fingers. "Not so tough now, are ya? Fucking murderers. C'mon, let's take this bastard in", said another. Grabbing him by the shoulders, they started dragging Derek through the gutter, not caring to lift him to his feet even as filthy rain water splashed up his nose.

"Wait a second", the first cop said.

They stopped as ordered, and the cop leered down at Derek, pointing his gun into his face.

"How does it feel, scum, to have your life resting in the hands of another man? Sucks, don't it?" he taunted.

"I don't know, sometimes it's quite thrilling", a voice answered.

The cop spun around to find a man in a long dark coat standing in the rain, his eyes hidden behind an expensive pair of sunglasses. Derek had never been so relieved, and yet so reviled to see Jason's face. Spotting the gun holstered under Jason's left arm, the cop's eyes widened and his finger squeezed the trigger, but Jason moved faster than his eyes could track. He dodged two more bullets before grasping the cop's wrist, crushing it, and whilst he screamed in agony; hurled him one-handed into the wall.

The others abandoned Derek as they tried to circle Jason, firing erratically as he continued to duck and weave from every bullet. Spinning forward, Jason drove his fist into a cop on his right, likewise sending him flying into a cruiser. The other two, starting to panic now, backed towards their car. One kept firing at Jason while the other dived for the shotgun inside the vehicle. Detecting the new weapon, Jason reached into his coat, removing his SIG-Sauer P226 from its holster and fired twice before putting it back.

Derek could only watch as the two cops fell to ground, a perfect hole between their eyes.

"Hmm, I very much enjoyed that", Jason mused.

Turning his attention to Derek, Jason strolled over and reached down for him, lifting Derek to his feet without effort and snapping the cuffs just as easily. "You're lucky I happened to be in the neighbourhood, or else this would've gone a lot differently", he remarked.

"Yeah, bullshit; you were following me", Derek growled, his wound begging for attention.

"Indeed I was. But I don't see you complaining", Jason replied.

"Not this time", Derek muttered, meandering back to the truck.

Jason chuckled and flexed his fingers, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. Scanning the bodies, he detected two heartbeats belonging to those fortunate enough to have survived. Derek put one foot inside the truck before noticing he was still boxed in.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

Jason followed his gaze to the cruiser in front of him and promptly gripped the underside. Adjusting himself correctly, he lifted the vehicle from the ground and with a single burst of strength, pushed it up and out of the way; granting Derek the space he needed to leave. Rubbing his hands together, Jason stepped aside as Derek drove forward a little before stopping.

"And by the way, if I catch you following me again; I'll kill you", Derek threatened.

"How?" Jason replied.

Derek paused for a moment, then answered; "I just will. Don't follow me."

Spraying rain water in his wake, Derek stormed off without another word, and Jason could just barely see him talking on the phone to someone as he turned the corner and disappeared. _He didn't even say goodbye_, Jason mused. Looking down at the body of a cop, he noticed the man was starting to stir. Instinctively, he placed his boot on the cop's neck, but it occurred to him that killing the man was quite unnecessary at this point. Still, he knew an ambush when he saw one, and this lawman had his uses.

Grabbing the cop by the throat, Jason lifted him off of the ground and held him aloft.

"Guess what? This is your lucky day", he said with a sadistic smile.

_Time for a little chat…_

-----000-----

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

5.06PM

The dark sky flashed twice in quick succession as rain hammered against the window incessantly, threatening to drown them all. Cameron was unconcerned about the weather. By her calculations, the likelihood of them being swamped was highly unlikely. It was more likely a bolt of lightning would hit the property, but the odds of that were in safe averages.

She simply watched as the water poured down the window panes, rogue drips joining with others as they travelled down the surface to join the main mass. It reminded her of the surreal automation of the T-1000 series: millions upon millions of cells merging together to form a single consciousness; an entity of sentience and immortal magnificence. Cameron had never second-guessed her nature, but as she observed the behaviour of the rain, a small part of her wished she could be comprised of such perfection.

Footfalls on the floorboards signalled the arrival of a visitor, but not John.

"We need to talk", Sarah spoke.

"Do we? I believe you know everything you need to know", Cameron replied, keeping her back to the woman.

"Not everything", Sarah countered, taking another step into the room.

Every time Sarah cornered her alone, Cameron developed the habit of placing herself in a combat-ready state. Of all their allies, Sarah was the most dangerous and potentially treacherous. Even Derek was safer to be around, and he had a real reason to hate her. In many ways, Sarah was the disapproving mother-in-law who was only supportive for her son's sake, and certainly under protest. But Cameron would not let herself count Sarah as a safe asset under any circumstances. So for that reason, her right hand curled into a cautious fist.

"I have nothing more to tell you", Cameron repeated.

Sarah stepped closer, but consciously kept out of reaching distance of Cameron.

"I already know you're not going to tell me the truth, just as you haven't told John the truth. I do know that you're hiding something, and that the situation is a lot worse than you would have us believe. I'm not going to try and get you to talk, cos' I know it would be useless", she said.

Cameron turned her head to look at her, peering over her shoulder as her fist started to lax and uncurl again.

"You're a machine. John often forgets this but I don't. And no matter how advanced you are, no matter how human you may appear; you are and always will be just wires and clockwork."

"Then why do you allow him and me to be so close?" Cameron asked.

Sarah's brow twitched as she crossed her arms and sighed; "Because he loves you. Because somehow he sees something inside you that's human. I don't see it. I don't. But he does, and that's all that matters to me. And so you matter to me. And that thing inside you, whatever it is, matters to me too. You want to know who else it matters to? John. This is his child. Understand that if anything happens to it, he will _never_ forgive you. This thing that you have will be gone, and when you no longer matter to him, you will no longer matter to me."

She didn't need to ask Cameron if she understood what she meant. If anything happens to the baby, John would turn his back on her, and she would no longer be protected from Sarah. Sooner or later, she would find herself on the wrong end of a high-explosive incendiary round, and John wouldn't be there to keep her safe. To put it plainly; her survival now depended upon the baby's survival.

"I was reprogrammed to protect John from any threat. I have saved his life more times than you can count. Everything I do is for his benefit. For whose benefit would it be if you were to kill me?" Cameron replied.

"Just make damn sure you tell him the truth before it happens. You owe him that", Sarah answered, avoiding her question.

Cameron turned back to the window as Sarah left her in peace. The rain was starting to slow and the thunder was gone, but the drops continued to roll down the glass, making vein-like patterns in every pane. They were steamed from the cold, and when Cameron pressed her finger to it, she could feel the change of temperature so sharply it surprised her. Dragging her finger across, she relished her newfound clarity of sensation and let her finger drop to the frame.

Looking at the glass she noticed the pattern of her finger trail greatly resembled a 'J'.

Deep down, she felt the tiniest of movements inside her womb. Hair follicles on her inner thigh alerted her to the presence of a slow-moving droplet of bodily fluid as it descended the length of her leg. This was followed by another, and another, until she realised it was happening again. Staring out of the window at the rain-soaked world, Cameron could no longer help but question her resolve.

-----000-----

LOS ANGELES

7.13PM

The traffic light turned emerald green, signalling the end of another long day for James Ellison.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, a report arrived informing him of the failed arrest of Derek Reese earlier in the city. The report said they were lucky to have spotted him at all, but they were far from lucky in the end.

Two dead, one wounded. Another missing. And an unidentified assailant working with Reese.

And who was blamed for this debacle? The answer was as obvious as it was inequitable. Ellison was forced to endure 'the long walk' down to the senior offices where he had his ass handed to him by three of his superiors. Though he was fortunate to get out with his job intact, he was still put through the humiliation and stigmatism of a leave of absence pending evaluation.

It truly could not get any worse.

Unexpectedly, the windshield of his car suddenly cracked and a small hole appeared to be the source. Ellison's body bucked, and at first he thought it was just surprise on his part, but a few heartbeats later he realised he was bleeding. Time seemed to stop as he let go of the wheel and the car swerved to his right, smashing to a stop on the side of the road. The impact shook him, and for the first time he could feel the utter agony of having a bullet imbedded between his ribs.

Breathing became harder for him, and the more he breathed, the more his heart worked to transport the blood, the more he bled.

Removing his hand from the wound revealed the extent of the damage. What little coherent thought he had left was screaming for help, but in his heart he knew his end had come. No one could save him from his fate, not even the dark figure now standing at his door, peering through the shattered glass of his side window.

"James Ellison, we meet at last. It's a pity this had to be under such unpleasant circumstances", Jason quipped.

"Wha- What… Who… are… you?!" asked Ellison, barely able to string a sentence together.

"My name is Jason Corvain. Formerly an Infiltration Specialist Series I-950, formerly a patch-up, currently a Series 999 freak show. It's a pleasure to meet you", Jason answered pleasantly, reaching inside to shake the agent's bloody hand, which he then wiped clean on his suit.

"Why would you-? Why would you do this?" Ellison gasped, the pain becoming too much.

Jason knelt down a little so he was of the same eye level as Ellison before removing his glasses, briefly revealing a red flash behind his eyes. Ellison's pulse, already erratic from the blood loss, became even more unstable upon seeing that.

"You're one of them?!"

"Not quite, but close enough. Now I have a few questions I would like to ask and since I aimed a little too high, you haven't much time to indulge me so let's cut right to the chase, shall we?" Jason began, resting his gun on his arm; a suppressor attached to the barrel. "Four cops cornered one Derek Reese today and almost carried him off for murder. I've caught up to speed on his dealings since coming here, so I know all about the Goode charge. But I also know that that occurred long enough ago to prevent that kind of pre-meditated snatch."

Ellison could hear his own heart beating. It wasn't long now…

"So that means something new must've occurred to alert them to his presence in the city. I ran by the basement and found your people crawling all over it, and I'm guessing someone spotted Derek and me leaving the place that night. So I asked one of the men who tried arresting dear old Derek, and guess whose name escaped his lips?" Jason explained.

Ellison started to pant as his whole body trembled from the shock of his injury.

"So I followed you. Got a little ahead and took aim. And now here we are", Jason concluded, taking note of Ellison's worsening condition. "I have to know what you were planning to do about the case. You know what I am and why I exist. You've met one of them and helped the Connors destroy it, so I wonder why you would lead an investigation that could potentially harm them."

"I… I… wasn't… I… was going to… to… shut it… down… to… bury it… I…" Ellison laboured.

"Ah, so I'm assuming the deaths of those cops prevented you from doing that, right?" Jason realised.

_Lesson learned_, he mused.

"Well, I am sorry for that meddlesome business. Had I known in advance, I might've let them live. Oh well, you can't undo the past, now can you?" he sighed, pulling back the hammer on his gun.

Ellison could feel his body giving up, but even when facing the inevitable, he still hoped there was a way out of it.

"Please", he pleaded in the smallest whisper.

"As you wish", Jason replied, thumbing the safety on and pocketing his weapon.

A small sigh of relief escaped Ellison's lips as the world grew darker and his vision blurred. In the blink of an eye however, Jason reached into the car and clasped his hand around James' mouth, then forced his head sharply to the right. A small click was all that marked the death of the agent as his neck snapped, putting an end to his life. It wasn't quite what he had hoped for, but Jason had done his homework on the man. He knew of his faith, and he knew that if it was to be believed, he had forever saved him from suffering.

"You are the fortunate one here", he muttered as he closed Ellison's eyes.

_Let the devil take me instead._

-----000-----

TESLA HOTEL – LOS ANGELES

7.37PM

_One bag. Clothes. Guns. Have to leave now!_

Jesse threw her spare jacket in with the rest of her clothes, darting from one side of the room to the next, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Through the phone pressed to her ear, she could hear Derek listing off the places that would be safe for her to move to. Grabbing her gun, she stopped him at the third address and gave the room one last check to be sure she'd gotten everything.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'll leave now and set up shop. You just make sure you come and see me tomorrow, okay?"

_I'll be there. Just be careful_, he replied.

"Will do. See you soon", she promised, clipping the phone shut.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes, carefully contemplating whether to call for help. She knew she shouldn't, but she was in way over her head now. Flipping the phone open again, she started tapping in the number; and upon pressing the call button, she turned around to find she was not alone.

"Hello again", Jason said.

A voice on the other end asked her what she wanted, but before she could answer, Jason's hand was around her throat and pinning her to the wall. The phone clattered to the floor, its screen going dead from the impact. She'd waited too long. She should've left the second Derek told her he knew her location; another error that will lead to her death. Jesse always had a feeling this monster would be the cause.

"I've killed a lot of people today, so I strongly advise you to be concise with me this time", he warned.

Her eyes darted to the bed where her gun lay useless upon the canvas. It took her a second to remember she was not unarmed however, for tucked in a belt around her ankle was a spare she never believed she would need. Jason studied her closely, patiently awaiting her response and cooperation. Jesse took several deep breaths as she counted the seconds leading to her move, then she struck. Pulling her legs up, she grabbed the small gun from her ankle holster and ripped it free, breaking the strap holding it in place.

Jason barely flinched as she brought it to bear and fired three times into his face. His fingers twitched and loosened a little, and she saw her chance. With all of her strength, Jesse tore herself from his grip and hit the floor hard. Before he could react, she fired four more times into his jaw, causing him to stagger slightly. He was still in front of the door however, blocking her escape. But then it occurred to her: the window. Jumping to her feet, she dived through the glass and onto the metal staircase on the side of the building.

Jesse struggled to her feet and hurtled down the stairs, jumping the last set and landing in the alley below. Wasting no time, she pushed her body to its limits as she fought to escape the vicinity as fast as she could, but a heavy thud and the cracking of concrete alerted her to his presence. Jason took pursuit, his pace easily matching hers as he dashed down the alley and around the corner, finding her a little way ahead. With a smile of satisfaction, Jason increased his pace to exceed hers, and a few seconds later he was almost within reach.

Jesse peeked over her shoulder to see him almost on top of her and her heart began to race faster than her legs could run. She sped alongside a parked delivery truck, idly wondering if she would be better off trying to jump inside and keep him out long enough to start it up. But she knew it would be suicide. He would catch her anyway. Putting the truck behind her, she urged her body to go faster, but her legs could not accommodate her needs. There was no escape.

_Clu-CHUNK!_

She almost stopped at the sound of the noise, but glanced over her shoulder instead. What she saw filled her with a mixed ecstasy of relief and elation: the truck door was hanging off its hinges whilst a bewildered-looking driver ogled at Jason on the floor, who was moving slowly to cradle his head; his sunglasses shattered and his hair a mess. "That did _not_ just happen", she heard him groan as he removed his ruined shades. Jesse had no desire to look the gift horse in the mouth however, and so she carried on until the cyborg and she were safely apart.

She had used up another of her lives. If she were a cat, she'd have only three chances left to her name.

_Live today. Revenge tomorrow_, she reasoned.

_To be continued…_


	4. Lost and Found

**Hope**

**Chapter 04: Lost and Found**

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

TUESDAY 26TH MAY

7.33PM

'…_officials conclude that the agent was shot through the chest and subsequently broke his neck when his vehicle ran off the street. Fellow agent Jeremy Carlson told us earlier today that he was "deeply shocked and dismayed by this sudden and heinous crime". Agent Carlson was working alongside James Ellison in the investigation of a residential disturbance reported two nights ago. While the FBI have yet to make an official statement on whether or not Agent Ellison's murder is linked to this investigation, rumours are circulating that a…'_

Cameron listened as the reporter speculated on the details of the crime. She was sitting on the couch, a remote in one hand and a carrot in the other, periodically taking small bites out of the vegetable as she absorbed and analysed the media. Even in her current state she still kept to her duties as best as she could, and monitoring the city news was a much more manageable task than patrolling the house with a Beretta and a 12-gauge.

'…_however, the FBI has reported that a convict known for his connection with the Andrew Goode murder case may have been involved.' _

For a brief moment, Derek's face engulfed the television screen as the reporter continued into more detail of his past convictions. Cameron watched attentively as a general alert was given to the public to avoid any contact with Derek and to report any sighting to the police immediately. This was a problem. With the police and the FBI actively hunting him down, Derek had compromised their safety in the city. His usefulness had rapidly evaporated with these turn of events, and Cameron vaguely wondered if terminating him would suit.

_John would take offense_, she reminded herself, putting the thought aside for another day.

The soft creak of the floorboards alerted her to the presence of another, and judging by her readings from the tiny vibrations in the floor, Cameron deduced it was Sarah. She stood with her arms crossed like always, her brow furrowed and her eyes pinned to the television like a hawk eyeing its next meal. Cameron did not register her presence and took another bite out of her vegetable, grinding the carrot into a perfect mush before swallowing. A few moments of silence passed before Sarah finally found her voice.

"What the hell is this?" was all she could manage.

"James Ellison was murdered yesterday evening on his way home from work. Derek is their chief suspect", Cameron answered.

Cameron's 'Captain Obvious' reply to Sarah's rhetorical did little to ease her sudden anxiety over the situation. She had only really met Ellison once, but he'd been a presence in their life for a very long time. After destroying Cromartie in Mexico however, they'd long since lost contact with him. Last she heard, he was still working at the Bureau and conveniently burying all mention of herself and John whenever they leaned too close to the limelight. His death brought no joy or relief to Sarah; only a deep sense of lament.

"Why Derek?" she croaked, taking a moment to clear her throat.

"They say he escaped arrest yesterday and murdered two cops in the process. He's become a high priority target", Cameron explained.

"And his face will be on every rag from here to LA central", Sarah sighed.

But this was all news to her ears. _Escaped arrest yesterday? He never mentioned this when he came crashing through the door last night with a beer in his hand and a gun in the other. Just what has he been up to_, she asked herself.

"Why would he do this? It doesn't make any sense."

Cameron stood up from the couch and set the remote aside, the last piece of the carrot still in her hand as she pressed the 'off' button on the television. "Ellison was assigned to the case. Derek must've known this and considered him a threat. I would've done the same", she reasoned.

"No, he wouldn't be stupid enough to kill someone without making sure it wouldn't lead back to him afterwards", Sarah argued.

"Humans do stupid things. You're reckless creatures. Passionate. Perhaps Derek was angry or afraid. Fear can make you do stupid things", Cameron replied.

This was true. And though Sarah knew Derek was not averse to killing someone if he had the justification, she still doubted he would take such a high profile risk by murdering an FBI agent. He was crazy for sure, but not _that_ crazy. And besides that, Sarah could not recall the last time she ever saw Derek make a move based on emotion. He was always so calm and collected when it mattered.

"He's been going into the city for extended periods for the past few days now. He never says why", Cameron added.

This was also true, and equally troublesome. Whether he was responsible for the murder or not, he was definitely hiding something.

"He's breaching our security. If he's caught again and the police make him talk, he could lead them straight to us."

"That'll never happen", Sarah protested, more on reflex than anything.

Derek was a lot of things, but nothing in the world could force him to betray his own family.

"It has before and it will again. He can't be trusted", was Cameron's cold response.

Once again, Sarah got that sinking feeling that Cameron knew more than she was letting on, and staring into those empty brown orbs only confirmed her unease. Without another word, she turned on her heels and marched into the kitchen. Derek was sat at the table with the local newspaper and a glass of cola, John sitting beside him with a sullen look on his face. They both looked up as she approached, but neither spoke or made any effort to deny having heard every word spoken in the lounge twenty seconds earlier.

"So?" Sarah started.

"So what?" Derek replied. "I'm a murderer now, is that what you think?"

"I don't know what to think right now. But I strongly suggest you start talking before I beat it out of you", she growled.

John sat up a little and sighed as he braced himself for another one of their showdowns.

"I didn't kill him. I was already in the mountains when he died."

"He's right, I checked the time. Derek got home about a half hour before they say he was murdered", John interjected.

The trick was to defuse the situation as quickly as possible, for once Sarah built up enough steam no power in the world could stop her. _Not even Skynet_, John would often muse. She was chewing on this new evidence however, and had yet to move on from her steely glare.

"Then what about your little trips into the city? What's so important out there that you have to spend every waking hour eating our gas fund? And when the hell were you going to tell me you almost got your dumb ass booked last night?" she interrogated.

John looked to Derek, for he was also eager to hear his uncle's explanation for these phenomena. Derek simply leaned back into his chair and flattened the paper on the table before linking his hands together and fixing Sarah with a defiant glare of his own.

"What I do and why is my business. But since you can't help but get in everybody's business I might as well tell you that I'm doing my job", he replied.

"What job?" John and Sarah asked in unison.

"The job you gave me before you sent me here", Derek answered, glancing at John briefly before turning back to Sarah. "I'm maintaining a weapons cache for the Resistance. You never noticed me coming and going when we lived in the city, but now that we're in the middle of God-knows-where you're starting to take notice. Well done. Way to catch up."

John cast Sarah an 'I told you so' look that only exacerbated her growing discomfort.

"But the arrest-"

"Some donut grabbers spotted me coming out of a store in Van Nuys. They boxed me in and tried to take me", he interrupted.

"And you killed them?" she pressed, determined to find him at fault for at least one thing.

"No, they had me cold. But it turns out I have a guardian cyborg on my shoulder", he sighed.

_Cameron? Not possible, she was… _and then it hit her like a brick in the face.

"…Jason", she realised, mentally kicking herself for being so dense.

The kitchen became uncomfortably silent after this as Sarah tried to make everything fit inside her head. She despised being wrong, especially when this was proven by those closest to her. She couldn't bring herself to apologize to him, however, and simply nodded in acceptance of the truth. John then promptly stood up from his stool and left the room to check on Cameron, leaving the two of them alone with the awkwardness.

"You're still not telling us something", she sniped.

Derek blinked, but kept his mouth shut. Deciding she'd get nothing out of him, Sarah turned to follow John into the lounge, but at that very moment a soft buzzing noise came from Derek's direction. He reached into his jacket and extracted his cell phone. With one glance at the tiny display, he got up from his seat and pushed past her, leaving the house altogether before answering the call.

Sarah peered out of the kitchen window and watched as he stopped by the bench outside, frequently turning on the spot to check his surroundings, as he was wont to do. His brow creased and he rubbed his temple whilst he spoke. Sarah didn't need to be an expert on body language to know he was stressed by whoever was on the other end. He started pacing back and forth, jerking his free hand up and down while he looked to the floor, barking words her hearing couldn't quite make sense of.

Discreetly, she reached for the window and opened it a tad, allowing the sounds of the world to pour into the kitchen. Beneath the rustling of the wind and the buzz of wildlife, Sarah could barely make out what he was saying.

"…I told you he was coming. Why didn't you get out when you got my text…? Well I can't be held responsible for the crappy service we have up here, can I…? No... No, just… Look, just calm down and tell me where you are… Right… Okay… Yeah, I know where it is… I can meet you in a few hours… What…? Then just keep moving until I get into the city… Yeah…? No, I'm bringing you back to Arrowhead… Jesse, we can protect you… Fine… Just stay one step ahead of him. I'll be there as fast as I can."

Derek snapped the phone shut and drew his hand down his face in exasperation before making a beeline for the truck. Sarah abandoned all pretence of subtlety and burst through the front door just as Derek fired up the engine. "Hey!" she bellowed as he pulled out of the drive in a flash, kicking dirt and conifers into Sarah's face, making her cough and splutter. "Son of a bitch!" she wheezed.

She couldn't believe his audacity. Every fibre of her ached for the opportunity to break every bone in his body; starting with his legs and thick skull. But instead she had to settle for seething fantasies of him crashing his truck into the backend of a Mack. Brushing dirt and twigs from her hair, she stalked back to the house.

From behind the burnt-out shed, Sophie narrowed her ocean blue eyes in contemplation of what she'd just overheard.

-----000-----

VAN NUYS – LOS ANGELES

8.16PM

--[_Approximating current distance from target… 6.49233… 5.98667… 5.55143… 6.07899… 5.83626… 6.27473…_

_There you are._

Jesse had proven to be quite the escape artist, much to Jason's surprise. But now he'd finally caught up to her, for in her haste to distance herself from him she'd left a very traceable path for him to follow. She had run most of the way, but either from fatigue or the desire to appear anonymous; she was walking steadily along a busy sidewalk in the shopping district of Van Nuys. Jason wasn't far behind, though he kept a fair distance to ensure she would not spot him amongst the mass of shoppers.

Every now and then she would glance over her shoulder and Jason would step behind a pedestrian, shielding himself completely from her gaze. As they passed a grocery store, she did so again, and Jason hid himself. Her eyes widened as she could've sworn she'd seen the flapping of a dark overcoat amongst the crowd. Distracted by her find, Jesse walked straight into an old lady coming out of the store, sending her bags flying from her hands and onto the floor. The old woman squealed in shock and moaned at her fallen goods.

Feeling both shame and sympathy well inside her chest, Jesse squatted down to help the old lady gather her purchases and place them back inside their bags. "I am so sorry, I didn't see you there", she apologised. The woman was too preoccupied with finding all of her pears and apples to pay her any attention however, and muttered something undoubtedly insulting beneath her breath. Remembering the reason she bumped into the old lady, Jesse felt a jolt of unease creep up her spine and snapped her head over her shoulder.

But there was no sign of a dark coat. No creeping figures stalking within the crowd of every day people. _Perhaps I imagined it_, she thought. But why then did she still feel like she was being watched? Scanning her surroundings, Jesse realised she was opposite an alley on her right that led between the two stores and around a corner. It was pitch black in there, but she was certain that someone (or something) was watching her from within those depths. Curiously however, it was not the same sensation of unease she was used to.

There was a certain feeling of tranquillity to it.

Intrigued, she abandoned the woman on the sidewalk and stepped into the alley. As if in a trance, she followed it to its end and turned the corner, drawing her spare gun from her jacket and holding it ready. There, at the next turn, stood a figure in the darkness. She could barely see his outline and gathered enough to realise he was wearing a leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans. For a fleeting second she wondered if it were Derek, but that thought evaporated just as soon as it materialised the second he spoke.

"I see things have not gone according to plan."

His voice carried all the trademarks of youth, though the kind of youth found in early 20 year olds. But she knew that voice and to whom it belonged, and though he sounded young, she was certain that was not the case. Her fear faded and she holstered her weapon immediately, knowing she was in safe company.

"I've had a few problems", she confessed.

The shadow tipped his head a little to one side; "The cyborg?" he asked.

"Still functioning", she clarified.

"Then you will have finish what you started", he sighed.

"It's not that simple. He's on to me. I can't do the job with him on my ass twenty-four seven", she explained.

The figure chuckled and stepped a little to his left. Jesse thought he was about to leave, but he stopped and turned to her again.

"Perhaps you should take care of him then. All this running does nothing to flatter you", he proposed.

"Are you insane?! He'll kill me in a heartbeat! Or worse: capture me and torture me for information about you! Then kill me!" Jesse argued.

"Must I do everything myself?" the shadow growled.

Even in the dark she could see his fists curling into a ball and grew wary.

"Fine, I'll take care of this little problem. But you had better make good on your end. Complete the mission", he ordered.

"I will", she promised.

Without waiting to be told, Jesse backed around the corner and stepped out of the alley, stopping to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. Once again she examined her surroundings, but was met with only the casual meandering of the oblivious. How she wished to be like them. Chewing on this thought, she set off amongst the crowd and melted away from spying eyes.

From the top of the store, Jason watched her slip away from his sight, but this no longer concerned him; for his attention was drawn to the alley and the dark figure who was now making his way out via the other exit. Carefully creeping along the rooftop, Jason replayed their conversation in his head and made a list of everything it entailed.

Jesse was simply a puppet. He had no use for tools. Not when he had the source within sight; the one pulling the strings from the cover of darkness. The suspect left the alley and started down the backstreet towards an unknown destination, allowing Jason to jump down into the alley and begin his pursuit. He had to play this one carefully and strike only after the target had led him to wherever he was going, for there may be more at work here than he knew. Jason was patient, however, and quietly relished whatever delicious fruits awaited him.

-----000-----

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

8.41PM

"There's something I have to tell you."

The soft canvas laboured beneath their combined weight as Cameron and John lay quietly together, relishing the calming serenity of each other's company. This was a safe place: nothing could touch them here; nothing from the outside, at least. But within their little bubble lived a darker threat that overshadowed anything lurking out there. It existed between them. It was a lie born of concern and the calculated weighing of two evils. But the time of cherry picking a lesser evil had passed. It was time to expel the lie and rekindle the truth.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that."

John's words were soft and resonated with their proximity. Lying on his side, he could see her every detail with perfect clarity. Her eyes shimmered with a light unlike any he had seen before, and he was not entirely sure if it was human or not. Even though he knew what was coming, that she was finally going to reveal to him the truth he so desperately sought and shunned, John couldn't help but find himself admiring her petal lips and the tenderness of her skin. He knew it was a coping mechanism. He was softening the blow…

"The baby…"

_It doesn't matter what she says. It won't change how I feel…_

"…I lied to you before…"

_She admits to lying. She never lies to me unless it's to protect me. I know this…_

"…everything is not fine with the child…"

_Whatever it is, we can deal with it. We can fight…_

"…there's been a… complication…"

_Together…_

"…our baby…"

_No matter what…_

"…is dying."

He wasn't surprised. He wasn't even fazed. But those last four little words gripped like a fist inside his gut and his heart, leaving a cold and hollow place in their wake. Assumption was one thing. Confirmation was something else entirely, and no matter how hard he tried to play the part, to be the man he needed to be; John Connor wept like and for the child he knew he could never meet.

Hot tears splashed down his cheeks and onto her hand as he held it to his lips, his entire body shaking with despair and disappointment. Remembering her protocol, Cameron gently stroked his hair as he sobbed into her hand and marvelled at how intense each droplet felt as it travelled across the surface of her skin. She had never felt like this before. Every touch was a spark of raw static. Every tear drop a bolt of lightning. Her entire body was alive in the deepest possible sense, and yet she knew it could not be so for she was not of the living.

Her sensors could no longer keep up with the stream of data being sent to her processor for decoding and analysis. And yet amongst the chaos of ones and zeros she detected a single error: a moisture element upon her left thigh. She tipped her head forward a little to see for herself, but in his anguish John followed her gaze to find a red stain on her skirt. His eyes widened and reddened more so as fresh tears sprung from his ducts.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no", he bleated.

Cameron had only seen him like this one other time, and that was the day he reinserted her chip after her second attempt to kill him. This was John at his most passionate. It was moments like this that demonstrated to her the true depth of human emotion. Cameron had never reached those depths, for her capacity for emotional feeling was still in its infancy. But she was a fast learner and as she wiped away the tears from his cheeks, that little flame she'd been carefully nurturing inside her metal heart flickered brighter than before.

"It can't end like this. There has to be something we can do to stop it", John croaked.

"There is nothing we can do. It was never meant to be, our baby. I am not a life-giving vessel. I'm a Terminator", she answered matter-of-factly.

It was better to leave him without any false delusions, she believed. Allowing him a window of hope would only further his suffering when the inevitable came to pass, and Cameron was highly averse to causing him more pain than was necessary.

"You're more than that and you know it!" he growled.

Cameron's face went ashen at his words, as if he had insulted her in some way.

"I am not human, John", she replied. "I can never be. This baby can never be. It should be impossible. That's why it's dying."

"It doesn't have to. We can save it. You can save it", he protested.

Cameron reached up and smoothed his hair down affectionately before answering; "No, I can't. And I won't", she said.

John, his face still buried in her hand, fell deathly silent. A few seconds passed before he emerged from hiding and looked her in the eye, his expression full of desolation, rage, and most prominently; disbelief.

"Why won't you fight for this?!" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Because this child prevents me from fulfilling my duties", she answered.

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Y-You're going to let our baby die because you think you can't protect me?!" he fumed.

Cameron measured her response carefully. She knew she was on the verge of tipping him too far, but it was too late now.

"Yes", she replied.

John's anger and sorrow fell into horror as he looked into Cameron's eyes, seeing the neon blue glowing behind her irises. He had always considered it a spark of her soul poking to the surface, but now as he swallowed her apathy; they only served to remind him of what lay beneath those gelatine orbs. Metal and wires and the mind of a computer: all artificial, all a mockery of life. His mother's words echoed inside him as he sat up and away from her, covering his mouth in case the bile in his stomach rose up.

"Sophie is working on a theory that might save the child. It is highly unlikely she'll make it work though", Cameron offered.

John took her words and clutched them close, for they were his only source of hope in an otherwise hopeless world.

It was all he had left.

-----000-----

Four padded paws hopped onto the kitchen table and the cat slid a little on a solitary piece of paper set to the side. Sophie looked up at the feline and gave it a look he recognised. Timmy was being unhelpful. He offered a small _meow_ of apology, but Sophie remained unimpressed as she pulled the sheet out from under him, making the cat stumble backwards a little. The I-950 sighed as she examined the test results before her: the prognosis did not look hopeful for the miracle child.

Glancing at the laptop screen, she once again saw her latest theoretical failure and slapped the top down in frustration. Sophie buried her face in her hands as she let out a deep sigh. Lack of sleep and increasingly stressful setbacks were starting to take their toll. She wasn't even sure why she felt so compelled to involve herself with this dilemma. John meant nothing to her; neither did Cameron or Sarah, and certainly not the baby. Sarah had asked, or rather told her to stick around to help fix this situation and she obeyed.

But finding some impossible way to fix the impossible was far beyond her capabilities. She was an infiltrator, not God.

Timmy cautiously approached, stepping on her work as he rubbed his cheek against her fingers. Sophie pulled them away to find the cat staring at her with a deep purr in his throat.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Timmy simply meowed in response and continued rubbing himself against her hands.

"Is that so?" she replied, slightly amused by the cat's attention.

"He wants you to scratch his ears", Sarah explained as she stepped onto the threshold with her usual sullen expression.

Sophie ignored her advice and swept the cat aside. Timmy fell unceremoniously to the kitchen floor and righted himself almost immediately, darting past Sarah's heels with an indignant hiss. The corner of Sarah's mouth twitched as she observed the stressed cyborg snatch up another sheet of data.

"Not a cat person, I take it", she joked.

Sophie sighed and slapped the paper down again, fixing Sarah with a glare of sheer frustration.

"I've tried everything I can think of but nothing is working. As far as I can tell, there is no way to save this child!" she fumed.

Sarah stood silently as Sophie composed herself, taking deep steadying breaths whilst rubbing her aching temple in a vain hope to push away the stress and strife. "It's like this baby was destined to die", she breathed, closing her eyes to fight the headache.

"Destiny?" Sarah repeated. "What kind of destiny do you think that child, or whatever it is, will have? It may not even be human. What good can it bring to this world?"

Sophie kept her eyes closed as she poured relaxants into her bloodstream, coaxing her taxed body to finally take rest.

"Every child born into this world inherits the potential to bring either salvation or untold destruction to the human race", she replied.

"Gee, thank you, Yoda. Your input is most insightful", Sarah retorted.

Sophie feebly erected her middle finger at Sarah, still supporting her head as it begged to touch the table top.

"What do _you_ think the baby will be when, or if, it's all grown up?" Sarah pressed.

"I think the child of a human and a cyborg will be more important than both individuals combined. I think it might be the next mitochondrial Adam or Eve. A perfect specimen of man and machine united. I think her destiny will eclipse that of John's one day", Sophie answered none-so-cryptically.

"John saves the world. How can anyone compare to that?" Sarah protested with a frown.

Sophie forced her eyes open and pierced Sarah with those deep oceans of intellect as she replied; "But who ever said it was John's destiny to save the world by destroying Skynet? What if it is his true destiny to create the new generation of humanity? You never asked yourself this?"

Sarah didn't have a reply, for it was truly something she had never considered until now. Before she could quiz Sophie on it further, however, the I-950 collapsed on the table and fell into a deep sleep. Sarah felt tempted to wake her again, but knew better than to try and left her to it. Deep inside Sophie's dreams played a scene of burning buildings and a solitary girl amidst the flames, holding her hand out for her to take. But as Sophie reached out to take it, the girl's face peeled away to reveal the merciless chrome skull beneath.

In the darkness of the night, Sophie's entire body twitched in her sleep as the horrors of the nightmare took hold.

-----000-----

GRIFFITH PARK – LOS ANGELES

10.11PM

Derek loved these places.

Open spaces, long green perfect grass; a perfect place for a perfect world where kids and parents could simply enjoy the day.

It was for this reason that he chose such a location to meet with Jesse. Somehow, Derek couldn't see Jason striding up the path with a 9mm, surrounded by children and sand pits. Amused by the mental image his thoughts created, Derek smiled as he pictured a group of kids burying Jason in one of the pits and placing a bucket over his head. _If only_, he mused.

"What's so funny?"

Derek spun around to see Jesse creep out from behind a tree, cautiously scanning their surroundings for any sign of her pursuer. His eyes darted to the gun in her hand and a sudden sense of what he could only describe as outrage flared up inside him.

"Do you mind?! There're kids here, for Christ's sake!" he yelped.

Jesse stopped dead in her tracks and cast him an 'Are you serious?' look before sliding the gun under her belt and covering it with her jacket. Her expression did not waver as she stopped within a few steps of him and folded her arms.

"Derek, it's almost ten thirty. There are _no_ kids here. They're all tucked away in bed by now", she explained as if talking to a child.

Derek blinked and suddenly the world went from bright sunny day to dark sombre night in an instant. So engrossed in his imaginings was he, that Derek had fooled himself into believing he was standing amidst the daily joy of passing youth. It wasn't the first time he'd slipped into fantasy land, however, for even at the Homestead there were times when his mind would wander to distant shores and other places of peace. The world had become far too dark and full of pain for him to cope with all the time, and it was nice to have an escape.

"Yeah, umm… You still shouldn't walk around with it out for everyone to see", he recovered a little sheepishly.

"Well, _you_ try having a fucked up machine on your ass all day", she replied, resting her back on the tree with a sigh.

"Don't worry. If you've gotten this far you probably lost him. And even if not, he wouldn't start any shit with me around", Derek assured her.

Jesse frowned at his declaration and for a brief moment, checked to see if he was wearing a big red 'S' on his chest.

"You telling me he's afraid of you?" she asked incredulously.

"What? No. He just… He just knows his boundaries. He makes one wrong move and we'll yank his chain and then some", he replied. In truth, the notion of Jason fearing any one of them was rather ludicrous. He could kill them all without much strain, if he so desired. But Derek knew enough to realise they were bound by a common cause, and that it was this cause that stayed his hand. _He must be loving it_, Derek thought with an inner chuckle.

Derek had barely noticed the change in Jesse's expression at his words, however. She had gone from bemusement to alarm in a microsecond and if her jaw hung any lower it might've touched the ground. "Are you telling me… he works for you?!" she almost screamed.

"Not _for _us, no. With us, sort of, yeah", he replied unconcernedly.

Jesse simply stared at him in disbelief as he settled onto a nearby bench with a tired groan. Reluctantly, she followed suite and settled next to him, still lost for words. After a few minutes of awkward silence passed, she finally gathered the will to ask one of the many questions cascading around her head.

"Well?" was all she spoke, however.

Derek sighed and reached into his jacket pocket, removing something and holding it out for her to take. She opened her palm to allow him to drop it to her, and a single bent-in 9mm bullet fell onto her hand. Jesse picked it up with her other fingers and examined the memento carefully, increasing her confusion even further.

"What is this?" she asked.

"That is the bullet we plucked out of Jason's skull when he first came here. It's the bullet John, Future John, put inside him before he time travelled his ass all the way back here", he explained.

Jesse looked at the bullet with renewed interest as more questions arose.

"I don't understand", she said.

Derek reached over and took the bullet from her, placing it back inside his pocket before linking his fingers together and staring off into the distance with an expression of detachment on his face. "In the future, one of them at least; Jason was a new type of cyborg: an infiltrator that looked, behaved, and felt like it was human. But he never was. Jason is a lab experiment and a failure. Skynet scrapped the program and executed every last one of them, except for him", he informed her.

"But… why? What makes him so special?" she asked with a frown.

"Nothing. The bastard was just lucky. He escaped before the genocide began. He hoped he could have a shot at killing John and tipping the war in Skynet's favour, but what he didn't count on was how pissed off John was with him", Derek replied, tapping his forehead. It took Jesse a moment to realise he was referring to the gunshot Jason suffered before nodding and gesturing for him to continue.

"Well anyway, he lost his memory after that and by some freaky stroke of luck that still wakes me in the night, John happened to be there when he appeared in this time. We thought he was part of the Resistance at first. I mean, hell, he was human after all. But something happened to him. He had some kind of epiphany or something and got it all back. Then everything hit the fan", he continued.

"What happened?" Jesse enquired, enraptured by his story.

"What do you think happened? He tried to kill John", he replied.

"But he failed, obviously", she pressed.

"Yeah, me and John kicked his ass six ways from Sunday and the bastard was dead. Or so we thought. He survived and came back for more. Only this time he got inside Cameron's wiring and turned her into his personal metal slave. He got close that time, but John got her fixed and escaped. Jason slipped off the radar after that", he finished.

"And now he's back and hunting me", Jesse added.

"Apparently so", Derek replied.

Jesse played his story over and over in her head several times before settling on a single question.

"Then how can you trust him? What happened to make him your bitch?"

Derek grimaced and turned to look at her, his eyes burning with the same deep-seeded hatred she'd seen in him many times before.

"He saved our lives and stopped Skynet", he revealed, his voice layered with contempt.

Jesse could hardly believe what she was hearing. The notion that Jason could be anything but a lying, manipulative abomination was unfathomable. "Why didn't you melt the crap out of him anyway?" she jabbed. Derek sighed and his hand drifted to the Beretta in his belt, idly caressing the grip with relish.

"If we knew how to, we would have. He's metal now, and can take a hell of a lot more than anything we're used to fighting", he explained.

"Raufhoss, depleted uranium-", Jesse suggested.

"We have no idea if it'll work on him. He's built from one of those T-999s", he replied.

This was all she needed to hear. T-999s were among the toughest combat units she'd ever had the displeasure of facing. However, this was not news to her. Jason, as she remembered him, was always more machine than man…

"I see", was all she muttered as her thoughts drifted back to the war and the screaming of her fallen comrades. _No point dwelling on the past_, she thought. So she turned her attention back to the present and her current dilemma. Jason was still on her heels and no doubt going to catch her sooner or later, Derek's protection or no. "Why is he so obsessed with me, anyway?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Derek scratched his nose and glanced at a nearby trash can, inside of which sat the day's newspaper.

"Because he saw you with me and he suspects we're up to something", he answered distractedly, his gaze fixed on the paper.

"Yeah, but if he's- Hey, what're you looking at?"

Jesse stood up from the bench and snatched the paper from the trash, flapping it straight as she read the headline:

KILLER MURDERS FBI SENIOR

Below the headline was a picture of Derek, taken during his brief stay at the penitentiary after killing Andrew Goode. Jesse looked up from the paper to see Derek staring back at her, his expression sombre. "Did you-?" she began.

"No", he replied curtly.

Jesse scanned the first few paragraphs for more detail, but the writer was flamboyant and fallacious, and provided more speculation than fact to ease her growing concern. "Then who-?" she started again.

"My best guess is that Jason did it. He'd see it as doing me a favour, according to his own twisted logic", Derek spat.

Despite her almost insatiable curiosity, Jesse dropped the paper back into the trash and sat back down beside Derek, sliding her hand over his left. "How did it get so complicated?" she asked, her voice cracking a little from exhaustion and mental fatigue. Derek curled his fingers around hers and looked into her deep auburn eyes, spotting a slight redness that promised tears to come.

He had no answer for her, however. No satisfying revelation to explain why it was the way it was.

All he could do was hold her… and hope that, for now at least, it was enough.

-----000-----

THE DOCKS – LOS ANGELES

10.30PM

Jason had tracked many humans in his time. He was the predator stalking his prey: no mercy, no remorse; just pure instinctual pursuit.

But this was not his typical quarry. The long-coated shadow moved from alley to alley, never looking back, never making any attempt to secure his surroundings. And yet he slipped in and out of sight as if he were a ghost, and the longer Jason followed him, the more he came to contemplate that perhaps it was _he_ who was being hunted. Jason was not to be deterred, however. This suspect was pulling Jesse's strings and he needed to know what his intentions were, in case they weren't obvious enough already.

Jason was not willing to make assumptions in this case.

Turning a corner, Jason just barely glimpsed the flash of his target's coat as he stepped inside a building on their right. Careful not to let his footfalls echo, Jason slinked after the stranger and slipped inside without a sound. The area was practically pitch-black and Jason flicked to night vision to compensate, casting the world in a green glow as he crept deeper into the building. He assessed his surroundings carefully, and all around him were heavy cases and drums filled with a pale dust.

Jason dipped his finger into the powder and held it to his nose, but could not smell anything. _Strange_, he thought as he placed a small pinch of the dust onto the tip of his tongue. It was tasteless, however; and more to the point he couldn't actually feel the matter on his tongue or inside his mouth at all. Agitated by this sudden detriment but not willing to let it distract him, Jason brushed the dust aside and spat the sample from his lips. His eyes caught a glimpse of the side of a barrel, however, revealing the contents to be that of Halite.

Turning his attention back to more pressing matters, Jason proceeded onwards, passing between two 8ft tall bins. He couldn't hear anything, so Jason attuned his audio sensors to a different frequency and was immediately bombarded by the smallest sound. Wincing slightly from the crashing booms of a nearby dripping tap, Jason dulled out all irrelevant background noise and focused on one sound in particular: the steady rhythm of a beating heart.

It wasn't long before he located it, though as he listened to the thumping of his target's life source, his unease towards the man increased. It was beating in a highly irregular rhythm and for a moment he wondered if the man was suffering a heart attack, but then it dawned on him that this might not be a man at all. In truth, Jason was intimately familiar with that sound, for it was the same as his once was, and of Sophie's also. Jason now knew exactly what he was chasing and a small flicker of excitement flared inside him.

He was tracking an I-950.

_Someone worth killing at last_, he mused as he removed his gun from its hold.

Jason weaved in and out of containers and equipment, steadily homing in on the heart-beats as he quietly ascended a flight of stairs leading to a long catwalk overseeing the loading area below. Moving in and out of cover, he sidled along a pylon, coming to a dead stop as his keen eyes locked onto a figure standing just ten steps ahead. Jason slid around the pylon and raised his Glock but did not fire. The Infiltrator was simply standing there with his back to him, silently looking down into an 8 x 8 round bin of rock salt.

While shooting the I-950 in the back seemed a prudent course of action, Jason decided it better to play things a little differently for information's sake. He had questions and wanted answers, especially regarding Jesse's involvement with the attempt on Cameron's life. So he cleared his throat, and the I-950 shivered slightly, his head rising a little.

"You know, for an Infiltrator your prowling skills are somewhat lacking", he taunted.

The I-950 did not reply nor move at all. Jason stepped closer…

"I've been following you for hours and you didn't once give me the slip. I'm disappointed", Jason continued.

They were barely a few feet apart when the I-950 suddenly spun around, grabbing Jason's wrist. The gun fired, sending a single bullet awry as the cyborg pulled with all of his might and spun once more, placing himself behind Jason. With a kick that sent tremors up Jason's spine, the I-950 propelled him off the edge of the catwalk and into the salt bin below. It took him a moment as he lay there atop the salt to realise what had just happened to him. No one, not even an I-950, could get the drop on him like that. Or so he thought…

His Glock lay inches away and he watched as it slowly started to sink into the sand. Seconds later he realised that he too was sinking and in a moment of panic, kicked his legs to try and right himself. His abdomen descended without pause, dragging his legs along with it. Jason thrashed about as he tried to reach for the edge of the bin, but it was too late. The sand engulfed the T-999 as he reached out in vain one last time before all that remained was his outstretched hand, then nothing a few seconds after that.

The I-950 chuckled at his stalker's misfortune as he slid the heavy metal lid across the top of the bin, stepping onto it to fasten the latches on the sides. There was no way for Jason to get out now, his weight alone would see to that, and the sheer mass of salt surrounding him would make moving very difficult. Satisfied, he locked the final latch and took a moment to admire his handiwork.

"Just as predictable in this world as you were in the other", he leered.

Dropping down to ground level, the I-950 paid one last look at the bin, memorising the details on its side before leaving Jason to his fate.

-----000-----

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

11.11PM

"Boy or girl."

Cameron turned her head to the door to see John standing there, holding on to the frame with a markedly improved demeanour. He had taken the time to shave for the first time in days and was wearing a different shirt. Cameron noted these changes and recognised them as harbingers of what was to come; John often cleaned himself up before wading into a fight of some description.

"I'm not going to tell you", she replied.

John stepped inside the room and let his arms fall to his side as he slowly approached the bed.

"What do you hope it'll be?" he asked.

Cameron blinked as his question struck her as peculiar. She had never considered the sex of the baby, nor cared.

"I don't know", she answered.

John sat down on the edge of the mattress with his back to her, looking over his shoulder at her with a surprisingly calm expression.

"Do you even care? If it dies, if we lose our baby… would that bother you in the slightest?"

Cameron didn't even need to calculate an answer for that one. It was simply, "No."

The corner of John's left eye twitched at her callous admission, but he did not react as negatively as she had expected. In fact, he remained very calm and measured, leaning back a little and placing his arm out to act as a support while he simply looked her in the eye. Cameron recognised this kind of psychological manipulation and was immune to it, though his methods did not make clear his desire. Put off by this, she decided it better to add a little clarification to coax another reaction out of him that might shed light on his intentions.

"You programmed me to protect you. I followed that programming. Now it is my choice to keep you safe. But it is still only you whom I wish to care for. No one else matters", she explained.

John's eyes narrowed a little as he considered her words. "So you feel nothing towards the life growing inside you. The life we created."

"Yes", she confirmed.

"And if given a choice between my life and our child's?" he continued.

Again, her answer was instantaneous, programmed; "I would choose to save yours."

"My life isn't at risk right now. No more than usual, anyway", he countered, still maintaining his calm despite the blood rushing in his ears.

"Your life is at risk for as long as this child exists. If it is born, you will be bound to it. The child will be a liability. One I cannot tolerate", she reasoned. Cameron knew of a parent's deep-seeded desire to ensure the safety of their offspring, but she could not fathom why John would be so fixated on ensuring that he would be tied to such a fate when the one he has already is binding enough.

"So you would let our baby die just so you can fulfil your programming?" he posited.

"No, I will let this baby die because I promised I would protect you from everything. _Everything_, John", she replied.

John raised a leg onto the bed and leaned closer to her, placing both hands on the mattress for support as he slid towards her a little.

"And why did you promise such a thing?" he probed, trapping her eyes in his.

"Because-" she started only to find herself unable to speak the words. It was a curious sensation: a sort of churning in her stomach region that rose to her chest and joined with the steady pulsing of her hydrogen core. Her lips parted as the intensity of this feeling increased and she looked down to her bulging belly, then back to John's eyes. He wore a knowing look, for he knew exactly what he had wrought.

"What you're feeling right now is called guilt. It starts in your stomach and then reaches up to clench your heart. And then it squeezes real tight until you drown. Sickening, isn't it?" he informed her. Cameron's eyes widened and a small laboured breath escaped her lips. John moved across the bed and lay on his side next to her, propping himself up on one elbow. "So tell me why you made that promise."

"I… I…" she stammered.

"Say it!" John commanded.

A single tear spilled down her cheek as she struggled to put into words what she felt.

"Because I love you", she gasped, her eyes reddening.

John let out a shuddering breath as he stroked her cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Then find it in your heart to love our child, because if we lose this… this little soul, we lose it all."

"I don't know how", she whimpered.

"It's easy", John replied, taking her hand and placing it on her stomach. "You just have to let it."

Cameron had no idea what he meant by this, but experience had taught her to follow his guidance in such matters, and he had yet to lead her astray. A tiny tremor touched her fingers as the baby kicked at their combined touch, a sign she took as confirmation that John was right. What mattered to her more than protecting John was John himself, and she would lose him forever if she did not fight for this child.

And so she made her choice right then and there, without any hesitation. She decided…

_I won't lose him…_

-----000-----

Blood

It snaked down Sophie's finger as if possessed by intent.

She pressed her nail against the cut to stem the tide let loose by a misplaced syringe on her table. The cut was deep but clean and the blood flowed freely until she ordered her veins to cauterize at once, putting an end to the crimson river. She cursed herself for being so careless around pointy objects, for avoiding self-harm was one of the many tenets drilled into her from birth. _Not to mention common sense_, she thought.

With a sigh, Sophie turned back to her work and shuffled a few papers to one side. She still hadn't found any means of saving the child's life and the more she tried, the more she became convinced it was simply impossible. Every avenue she explored led to the same conclusion: Cameron was not a life-giving vessel and therefore could never fulfil the requirements of one. The child was doomed to die in utero, it seemed.

Sophie did not like losing, however, and was determined to keep looking until either the baby died or she worked herself to death.

But for now at least, she wanted a break from the grindstone. Closing her eyes, Sophie allowed the soft silence of the house to wash away all thoughts of research and emptied her mind of everything besides Jason. He hadn't called her back since leaving him a dozen messages on his cell phone, which was highly unusual for him. She had little fear that he could be in any situation he couldn't handle, but it was still cause for concern none-the-less.

On top of that, she could really use his help trying to crack this dilemma. Two science-savvy minds were better than one, after all.

A small twinge in her finger brought Sophie out of her reverie and back to the boredom of reality. Holding her finger up to the light, she examined the cut which had already sealed and was now little more than a red line. The pain did not return and the blood had stopped leaking, but there was something else about it that she couldn't quite place. Sophie felt like there was something she had forgotten, some revelation on the tip of her tongue that was annoyingly out of reach.

Somewhere within those red droplets lay an answer… and then it hit her…

"Blood!" she blurted out loud, surprising herself and sending the meandering cat flying out of the room in fright.

A dozen different theories poured into her mind at a pace she couldn't follow, but in a matter of seconds she gathered them and began writing furiously on her papers; new ideas, new possibilities, new answers, new everything. As if struck by a fallen apple, Sophie worked feverishly to check and challenge every one of her theories, and though many of them proved ineffective, this did not stall her momentum for she knew with absolute certainty that the answer lay with the blood, and each dismissal brought her closer to the answer.

Sophie worked long and hard into the night until finally she found the solution she was looking for.

_To be continued…_


	5. Sand and Blood

**Hope**

**Chapter 05: Sand and Blood**

NEVADA DESERT – MILITARY TRAINING SECTOR

SATURDAY 30TH MAY

9.00PM

The sand-caked ground crackled and growled as the military Humvee came to a sudden stop, spraying a nearby desert rat with a cloud of debris. Startled, the small mammal scurried back down into its burrow, fearful of the invaders and their heavy boots that crushed everything in their path. Drill Sergeant Gregory Apone set foot upon the desert floor and immediately spewed forth a torrent of insults and orders at his cadets, driving them like sheep to their positions and pre-planned operations.

"C'MON!!! YOU SORRY BASTARDS!!! I WANT THIS CAMP SET UP YESTERDAY!!! GET YOUR ASSES MOVIN'!!!"

Apone took a moment to catch his breath and, antithetical to this intent, shoved a thick cigar in his mouth and sucked on its intoxicating aroma. "Just another beautiful day in the Core", he mused aloud as he stepped forward to better observe his men as they obeyed his orders and began setting watch posts at every corner of the dried lake bed. The location was small but tactically advantageous, for they were hidden deep enough in the gulf to keep approaching foot soldiers from spotting them.

"GET YOUR SHIT IN GEAR, LADIES!!! MENDOZA!!! GET THAT TENT UP ASAP!!!"

Mendoza, one of Apone's most promising cadets, shouted a "Yes sir!" before driving the support pole deep into the ground, and then signalled the others to do the same in a pentagonal pattern as the canvas was brought forward. It took them less than five minutes to set up the command tent and even less to move the gear inside. Apone kept a conscious eye on his watch, taking note of every soldier and their level of efficiency. After twenty minutes had passed he blew his whistle, bringing every soldier to an immediate stop.

"Gentlemen, we have officially broken the academy record for the fastest setup. Smoke 'em if you got 'em, boys", he declared.

The soldiers gave a collective cheer and scattered to their respective posts, most of them reaching into their pockets to extract a cigarette. One soldier fumbled around, checking every pocket and pouch on his person before letting out a sigh and cursing under his breath.

"Jenkins! Get to your post! The Core ain't paying us by the hour!" Apone scolded.

"Yes sir", Jenkins replied, hurrying to join his partners at the south perimeter post.

"Hey man, you got a spare? I must a left mine back at the barracks", he asked one of them.

The soldier rolled his eyes and rummaged around in his pocket while the other sneered at Jenkins.

"Honestly mate, you'd lose your helmet if it weren't glued to your 'ead", he mocked.

"It isn't glued to me now and I haven't lost it yet", Jenkins pointed out.

"Don't think it ain't crossed our minds though", the soldier replied.

The other finished his search and held a cigarette to Jenkins, who took it eagerly and accepted the man's offer as he held out his lighter too. As the flame licked the end of the stick, something moved in the corner of Jenkins' eye. Just a few feet away the sand was shifting and a hole was starting to materialize. The men looked at each other for a moment, each as confused as the other, before taking a cautious step towards the strange anomaly.

"What the-?" Jenkins exclaimed.

Before he could make sense of what was happening, the ground suddenly exploded as if a grenade had gone off, except that in place of an explosion there was only metal and two red dots propelling themselves towards him. Pain exploded in his body as six serrated blades clamped around his face, piercing his flesh and digging into the bone beneath. With a strangled cry, he felt his body lurch forward as he was dragged head first into the hole from which the monster had risen.

His mates stood in shock and disbelief as he thrashed and screamed.

"JENKINS!!!" they shouted in unison.

As one they launched themselves on his back and tugged at his middle, trying desperately to pull their friend free from whatever had him. Jenkins continued to struggle and his cries became muffled before suddenly stopping altogether. The men were hurled back as he came free, but as they crawled back to their knees to check Jenkins' condition, all they could see was the bleeding stump that was once his head.

"ARRRRRGH!!! JESUS CHRIST!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!" one of them cried, scuttling away from the body in horror.

Transfixed by the headless body of his friend, the soldier did not see the same movement in the sand to his right, and turned too late to shield himself from the claws of the creature. As its twisted metal tools sliced and diced, all he could hear was the deafening whirring and almost feral mechanical screaming of what sounded like a thousand power drills.

One by one, his comrades experienced the same terrifying fate as the sand reached out to take each and every one of them in turn.

-----000-----

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

8.53PM

An eye blinks. Two fingers squeeze. And a single crimson tear drops onto a puddle of the same hue. The tear mixes with the contents of that puddle, creating microscopic sparks of electrical energy... life energy. Tiny artificial cells move from one body to the next, latching onto the foreign cells like parasites, except these have no intent besides that to aid those whom it attaches to. More sparks occur as every cell merges then divides, breeding a new and superior form of life. A hybrid of two worlds made one.

Sophie gasped as her theory was now finally proven correct after a week of tests and failures.

She had found the way to create new life.

Ecstatic, Sophie reached for her cell and pressed 1 on her speed dial, her heart racing as she awaited a response. The phone kept ringing, however, and after a few moments Jason's recorded voice greeted her. Sophie's elation wilted as she snapped the phone shut, not wanting to add to the queue of messages she had already left him over the past week. She was used to not hearing from him for extended periods, but something was wrong in this case. She could feel it just as surely as she felt the aching in her spine from the hardwood chair.

Standing free from the horrid furniture, Sophie stretched her arms and legs, feeling her muscles flex and her bones crack from prolonged rigidity. Looking down at the chair, which seemed so small to her now, Sophie lifted a foot and stepped down on its base. The chair exploded into several pieces that scattered across the floor. Satisfied, she removed herself from the kitchen and moved into the lounge to find a semi-startled Sarah rising from the couch.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, craning her neck to see inside the kitchen.

"I destroyed your chair. May I?" Sophie replied, sitting on the other end of the couch without waiting for Sarah's permission. Her back welcomed the change and she slid her legs onto the other cushion. The couch was built for three, but as she lay with her head resting on the side, Sophie offered little room for Sarah to feel comfortable.

"What are you doing? I thought you were supposed to be finding a way to save the baby?" Sarah asked, visibly annoyed.

"Oh, I cracked it. Now I'm just taking a breather before I get back to work", she replied.

"You cracked it?" Sarah repeated, confused.

Sophie closed her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, a smug smile on her face. After endless hours of finding a way to beat the impossible, Sophie felt like she was entitled to everything the world had to offer, though at that very moment all she wanted to do was just revel in her victory. "Uh huh", she answered. "Just a few more beta tests on larger doses and all will be good."

For all her time there, Sarah had never once asked Sophie _how_ she might save the baby. It wasn't her concern. All she cared about was whether or not she _could_ save the child, and whether or not this was the right course for them to take. So it was no surprise to Sophie that Sarah was clueless as to what she meant. Sarah decided not to ask, however.

A few moments of awkward silence passed as Sophie continued to make herself comfortable. Slowly, her feet started to slide across the cushion, edging closer to Sarah's thigh. Opening her eyes, Sophie considered Sarah closely and was struck by a sudden inspiration. The woman was a healthy age and physically attractive with her dark hair and piercing green eyes, and as Sophie scanned below her neck, she saw for the first time that she was more than adequately built to meet her standards.

_After all. Why not?_ she reasoned.

Sarah caught the mischievous glint in her blue eyes and suddenly felt very vulnerable. Sophie was wearing a black sleeveless shirt, not unlike one of her own, with the straps of a pale red bra visible beneath it. Having slid onto the couch, the shirt had ridden up a little to reveal her belly button, a fact Sophie was fully aware of. The summer heat had taken its toll on her in the form of the dark jean skirt she wore, from which protruded a pair of bare and perfectly smooth legs, ending with her usual sockless feet and painted toes.

Her skin was paler than Cameron's, but no less satisfying to the touch, as Jason was becoming more and more appreciative of as his senses slowly withered over the past months. Sophie's body was practically identical to the machine, though as Sarah narrowed her eyes at her features she noticed the absence of the mole on her left eyebrow and the slight changes to the shape of her mouth and cheeks. From a distance, they were impossible to tell apart (except for the hair) but up close the difference was clear to anyone.

None of this really mattered as the I-950 raised a foot and gently rubbed her toes down Sarah's arm in a seductive manner, her eyes briefly flashing with intent. Sarah jumped up from the couch as if it were scolding hot and drew her Glock, pointing it at the cyborg's throat. Sophie's grin widened as she spread her body across the entire length of the couch and placed her hands innocently on her stomach. Sarah held her aim, shaken and unsure of the Infiltrators true intentions.

"Relax. I just wanted the couch to myself", the I-950 giggled in Cameron's voice, sending a chill up Sarah's spine.

Sarah's heart gradually slowed to a steady rhythm as she eventually placed the gun back under her belt.

"Touch me again and I'll kill you!" she warned, striding out of the room with one last venomous glance.

Sophie chuckled at her reaction, though was a little put out that Sarah was not receptive to her advances. Closing her eyes again, she imagined how the night might've turned out had Sarah been accepting, and her toes curled as a myriad of delights played themselves out within the safe confines of her mind.

_After all. Why not? _she mused once more before losing herself to her dreams.

-----000-----

John didn't like this house.

He understood and appreciated its tactical significance; it was out of the way of the public and inconspicuous enough to keep almost anyone off their backs. It was made from the finest bricks and mortar, lined with the smoothest materials nature could provide, and possessed a warmth that kept him in a constant state of comfortable drowsiness. But it lacked one vital component that would otherwise have made it the perfect home: a corner, a small crevice for him to escape to and be left alone with his thoughts.

Instead he had to settle for his mother's bedroom and the hope that she wouldn't disturb him any time soon. She was aware of his habit of using her room for this purpose, and so she kept her visits few and far between. John was grateful for this as he sat quietly in the rocking chair at the end of her bed, gently bobbing back and forth with his chin resting on his knuckles and his brow knitted together in steady contemplation.

His thoughts drifted from tangent to tangent, unable to stay focused on one topic for too long. He preferred that it be this way however, for it kept him from worrying too much on any one subject, the most pressing and upsetting of which involved Cameron and the baby. He had convinced her to want their child to survive and though that was a step in the right direction, it hardly eased his growing dread that soon they would have no child for her to protect.

Therein lay the heart of John's turmoil.

But he was not inclined to feed the fire, so he forced himself to move on again to something less consuming. It was the second to last day of May and his mother's birthday was not that far away. He would have to think of something creative to make this year special, for it might very well be their last. Or at least, that was her philosophy. John was at a loss as to what to buy her, however. His mother had little interest in the things most women her age were in to.

As he began running through a mental list of her favourite effects, a faint static prickled his senses, disrupting his train of thought for the moment. Frowning, John leaned forward in the chair and perked his ears for whatever was making that noise. As he listened to the soft crackling he realised it was coming from a radio and instinctively looked to the police tracker on Sarah's desktop, but it was silent and the meters were reading zero.

Intrigued, he stood up from the chair and began moving slowly within the room, straining his ears to locate the source of the static. After a few minutes of searching he could not find it, however. Frustrated, he sat down upon the edge of Sarah's bed and stared sullenly at the floor. _Where the hell is that coming from?!_ he asked himself, covering his ears to block out the constant sizzling of the signal. It was in the absence of said noise, however, that it finally occurred to him as to what he was hearing and from where it derived.

Jumping back up from the bed, he spun around and crouched to his haunches, reached under the bed, and removed a black flat-bag from beneath the mattress. He unzipped it in a heartbeat and extracted the laptop from its cushioned enclosure, snapping the top open to reveal the screen active and buzzing with information. Many months ago, Sarah went through a phase wherein she wanted to find some means of wirelessly monitoring possible Skynet activity, to which Derek suggested they hack into the US military network.

John explained how impossible this would be without the access codes, but was certain that he could achieve some measure of infiltration, namely the standard military radio frequencies. It proved a little challenge to tap into their signal and monitor all military broadcasts in the California area, though John soon programmed the laptop to only activate should certain parameters be met, such as specific words. In this case, those words were: ambush, unidentified hostiles, machines, red eyes, and SOS.

Tapping the 'enter' key commenced the replay and the static was replaced with the garbled ranting of self-proclaimed Sergeant Apone.

_We're under attack! Taking heavy casualties! We need evac now! God damn it! They came out of nowhere! We need-_

The message cut out after that, and playing it back further shed a little more light on their attackers, and more importantly their location. John replayed the message several times before confirming its validity and allowing his mind to work on the details of what may or may not be happening to that team. It sounded as if machines of some description were involved, though he couldn't be sure. The soldier might just be unable to identify his enemy, as he didn't sound too sure in the earlier transcripts.

However, after listening to it one last time, John knew for sure that this was relevant to their interests. And though every instinct in his body screamed for him to ignore it and focus on the home front, he couldn't help but feel it deserved investigating. The door creaked open as a weary and somewhat shaken Sarah stepped into the room, jumping a little at the sight of her son sitting on her bed.

"John, what are you- What's going on?" she asked blearily.

"I think we just cut ourselves a break", he replied.

-----000-----

PLESARIO HOTEL – APARTMENT 19b – LOS ANGELES

9.22PM

This life was a luxury. Derek knew that.

From the soft sheets to the warm tantalising touch of Jesse's skin, everything was a gift sent by God or John or someone else entirely.

"Do you think he's watching us right now?"

"What?" Derek started, snapping out of his internalised philosophical ramblings.

"Jason. Do you think he's watching us?" Jesse repeated.

Derek thought about this for a moment before glancing at the bedside window and seeing only blue sky.

"No, I don't think so. Besides, I haven't heard from him in almost a week", he replied.

"Yeah, I haven't seen him darkening my footsteps lately either", she added thoughtfully.

"Maybe he died", Derek mused hopefully.

"Like anything can kill him", Jesse pointed out.

Derek shrugged, staring at the swirling patterns on the ceiling as a rather graphic scene played itself out in his head.

"You never know. He might've walked into the path of a freight train", he suggested.

Jesse chuckled and slithered her hand up Derek's chest, nestling her head under his chin comfortably.

"Funny Derek", she chortled.

Derek smirked and wrapped his arm around her slender body, idly stroking her bronzed skin. As he did this his thumb touched a small lump on her surface and further exploration revealed more of the same. For a moment he was concerned, but then remembered what lay upon the small of her back: a scar from the war. Derek had always believed she was untouchable. Jesse had been through dozens of deep sea brawls with ASW bots and Krakens, many of which left the USS Jimmy Carter a little worse for wear.

She, however, remained perfectly flawless every time they were reunited.

But not this time.

"Metal did that", she clarified, sensing his curiosity.

"What happened?" he asked, continuing to examine her injury with his fingers.

"One of the girls flipped on us one day. Killed everyone in the base. We never saw her again, but I won't be forgetting her anytime soon", she explained.

"We?" Derek replied.

"Me and Cully. You remember him, don't you?" she asked.

Derek's eyes glossed over as he pictured a skinny man with broken glasses and a spanner in his left hand.

"Cully, he was one of your deckhands, right?" he ventured.

"Yeah, he was one of the best on my crew. Knew a lot about Skynet tech and how to block their tracking signals and the like."

"What happened to him?" Derek asked.

Jesse sighed as she reached behind her, taking Derek's hand and placing it directly on top of the scar. "He died. The same piece of shrapnel that did this to me killed him. We were just trying to escape the chaos when she squeezed off a few in our direction. Hit a gas pipe and blew half tunnel to pieces. I was injured and trapped, fire all around me. I look over and there he was: his throat slashed to ribbons", she reminisced with sadness in her eyes.

"That must've been awful", was all Derek could offer.

"Yeah it was. It certainly changed his brother's opinions of the tin-cans. It was he who sent me back", she commented thoughtfully.

"He did the same for me", Derek recalled.

"Good man", Jesse added.

"They were all good men", he corrected.

Once again, Derek was reminded of why he came here in the first place. He came back to stop those men from ever having to face the same horrors again. He was going to do everything in his power to stop the war from destroying all that he loved and what the men loved, and what their families and friends loved. Derek was going to see an end to the cycle of death and destruction, one way or another. But even as he reminded himself of this, Derek couldn't keep out the growing feeling that his efforts were becoming increasingly futile.

It had been almost three months since their last lead to Skynet. Yet another homemade soapbox turned out to be little more than a clever system designed to sort information, with no potential for any kind of growth or learning experiences. All they were met with were dead ends thus far. Perhaps there really was no stopping it. Perhaps Judgment was and forever will be inevitable. Or maybe they had already stopped the war and were simply treading water, but then Jesse's being there was evidence to the contrary.

A deep whirring noise suddenly erupted from the bedside table, startling the couple. Looking over, Derek could see his phone vibrating across the top, threatening to fall off the edge of the table. _I could've sworn I switched that off_; he thought as he reached out for it with a frown and held the device to his ear. Jesse tipped her head slightly so that her ear was no longer pressing against his bare chest, thereby allowing her to hear the conversation.

"Yeah, what is it...? You what...? And you're sure it's connected to Skynet...? No, I just wanna avoid chasing smoke and mirrors like last time... Uh huh... Right... Okay, I'll meet you in an hour and we'll go check it out."

Derek snapped the phone shut and let out a deep sigh.

"Let me guess: Sarah's thrown up the giant bat signal?" she joked, her lips curling into a smirk.

"Something like that", he moaned, sitting himself up with a groan and swinging his legs out of bed. "You wanna come along?" he asked as he roughly pulled his jeans onto his legs.

"Sorry, love. I have a spa session booked for tomorrow. I'll need a full night's sleep", she replied with another smirk.

"Alright for some", he retorted, wondering where in Hell he'd left his gun.

-----000-----

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

10.37PM

Deep rumbles of content resonated from Timmy's throat as Cameron ever-so-gently stroked the tortoise shell fur on his back. The cat was nestled quite comfortably against her left side, enjoying Cameron's affections as she too was bound to the soft refuge of the mattress. John had forbidden her to get up and move around, for he was concerned that movement would only worsen the baby's condition, though she knew this would make little difference either way; she decided to comply regardless.

As if the very thought had summoned him, John stepped into the room and sat upon the bed with a sigh, smiling weakly at the cat as he drooled all over Cameron's fingers. "At least somebody's happy", he commented, reaching over to scratch him behind the ears.

Glancing at her belly, John caught sight of a small crimson stain on the sheets and peeled the covers back to reveal the mess beneath. Taking a deep breath, he kept his nerves as calm as possible as he tore his eyes away from the blood and up to Cameron's blank features.

"Has it-" he began, fearing the worst had come and gone in his absence.

"No", she intercepted. "But it won't be long now. The baby's time is almost up."

This did little to ease John's concern, though he was grateful at least that the end had not arrived just yet. The feeling of helplessness as he sat beside her was almost too much to bear. He felt as if he should just be able to reach out and pluck the child from its dilemma, but when expressing this desire to Cameron earlier that day she bluntly pointed out that an emergency C-section would be fatal to the child this early in the pregnancy. There was nothing he could do.

"Has Sophie discovered anything yet?" Cameron asked, intending to distract him from the immediate unpleasantness.

"She won't say", he replied with a dark scowl.

"That implies that she either has a solution but isn't sure of its viability or she has simply been unsuccessful and doesn't wish to tell you", she calculated.

"Then I doubt it's the former", John sighed, placing his hand on her stomach and gently rubbing the mound.

Small soft fingers snaked over his and linked themselves together as Cameron held his hand above the child's exact location inside her belly. She spoke his name and a tiny tremor rippled into his palm, but it was incredibly weak by comparison to the others he had felt in the past. John felt like breaking down right then and there, but his eyes had shed so many tears these past days that he could no longer muster anymore.

"John."

At first he thought Cameron had spoken, but a quick glance at her eyes revealed them to be trained on the doorway, so he turned to see his mother standing there awkwardly.

"Derek and I are leaving in a few minutes. Is there anything you need before we go? Anything I can do?" she asked.

John considered her offer and stood up from the bed with a look of disparity. He knew it was a pointless request, but his mother always had a solution to everything. "Can you help our baby?" he asked.

Sarah's face fell immediately, for she knew it was beyond her power to perform.

"John, I..." she began, but realised that giving false hopes would only worsen the situation. "Talk to Sophie", she finished.

John's jaw quivered a little as he nodded silently, his eyes darting around the room to avoid meeting hers. Sarah stepped forward and pulled her son into a warm embrace, stroking the back of his head sympathetically as he held onto her tightly. Cameron watched the two comfort each other, catching Sarah's eye for a moment. Something indescribable flickered in her expression for a split second, leaving Cameron analysing all possible meanings behind the look Sarah had given her.

Before she could come to any conclusions, the two had parted and Sarah was already making her way back downstairs. John hovered for a moment before settling back down on the bed and staring into Cameron's eyes as he placed his hand back onto her stomach. He spoke his name but this time he could feel no kick. Cameron shook her head, however, reassuring him that it had not happened yet. But they both knew without a shadow of a doubt: it was only a matter of time before their baby daughter would stop kicking forever.

-----000-----

NEVADA DESERT

SUNDAY 31ST MAY

12.02PM

The drive had been long and difficult but not unlike any he had endured in the past. Derek was grateful at least that Sarah was not in a talkative mood. It had become her habit to choose these long hours of inescapable incarceration to express her displeasure towards his behaviour or methods or recent activities. There were times when he could've sworn she had called him 'John' once or twice. Sarah's overbearing mother routine was one of many qualities that he had to suffer with in John's stead.

"I'm simply saying that every time you go into that city you use fifteen dollars of gas. And every time you come back from it you use another fifteen dollars. It adds up after a while, you know", she lectured.

Derek sat as if in a stupor, barely registering her words as she ranted about the costs of fuel and the economic climate. By now he was well schooled in the knowledge that thirty dollars of gas could pay for one hundred and fifty rounds of rifle ammunition. Sarah was always meticulous enough to make sure that her points stopped on a fact that he would acknowledge, guns being one such item. But he knew she was just as likely to spend those thirty bucks on hair conditioner or whatever else women spent money on.

"Where is it you go all the time, anyway?" she asked.

"Recon. Meeting with contacts. Everything you told me to keep an eye on. It's not my fault you pitched your tent so far out of the city", he countered.

"You don't have to go every other day though. Once or twice a week would do it", she commented, her tone carrying a hint of finality to it.

Relieved that she was giving up her incessant nagging, Derek reached forward and flicked the radio on, only to be met by static. He twiddled the dial to search for another station, but like before was met with nothing but static and the odd snippets of whatever transmission it was blocking.

"That's odd", he said, trying to fine tune a station.

"It's probably just a weak signal. We're in the desert after all", Sarah pointed out.

"Even deserts can get the basic package. Something must be interfering with the signal", Derek concluded.

Sarah rolled her eyes and flicked the radio off, not wanting to spend the remainder of their journey listening to seven colours of white noise. Disgruntled, Derek sat back in his seat in silent brooding as they trundled down the beaten path. Their destination was barely a few minutes away, and as they approached, Derek could make out a soft glow on the rise.

"Seems a little early for sunrise, don't you think?" Sarah observed.

"Yeah, I'd say so", he replied, reaching into his jacket to feel the Beretta stored there.

Sarah pulled the Jeep into a hard stop just short of the hill. From here they could see in greater detail as black smoke poured over the drop, accompanied by the smell of burning metal and fuel. Derek stepped out of the Jeep and popped the rear hatch, inside of which a choice selection of rifles and shotguns greeted him. Picking his favourite M16 and throwing Sarah her trusty 12-guage, Derek closed the hatch and took a moment to check his clip.

"What do you expect to find over that rise?" he asked her.

"Skynet", she replied.

"Let's hope not", he spoke under his breath as they proceeded to climb the steep hill.

The acrid reek of the burning wreckage became increasingly intolerable as they stopped just short of the top. Careful not to give away their position, Derek slowly poked his head over the top and narrowed his eyes at what he saw: the source of the fire was a military Humvee, or what was left of one. It was now little more than a burning wreck with smoke billowing out of the top. Derek scanned the rest of the basin, spotting scattered pieces of equipment, a gun here and there, and what remained of a comms station.

As far as he could see, there were no hostiles in the vicinity, but he knew better than to trust his eyes. Signalling Sarah, they both moved over the edge and dropped into the basin as quietly as possible. Keeping their guard up, they crept around the Humvee and stopped short of the tent. Closer inspection showed the canvas tattered and torn to pieces in ways neither had seen before. It was almost as if an animal had attacked the camp.

"You getting this?" Sarah asked.

Derek stepped closer to the tent and switched on his mounted flashlight, shining it on the collapsed mess before him. While he examined the tent, Sarah moved further into the basin, using the fire glow as her only source of light. Dropped rifles and side-arms littered the sand around her, even a few grenades in places. A little further ahead she could see the unmistakable mark of an explosion, most likely caused by a grenade. The sand was blackened and ripples of heat were rising from the crater.

"Sarah!"

Derek came running to her side, his rifle slung over his shoulder and his hand closed over something.

"What?" she asked.

Derek opened his hand to reveal a single bloody tooth in his palm. It looked like it had been torn from someone's mouth, for pieces of gum and jaw were still attached. He let it drop to the floor where it landed in a patch of sand that was darker than everywhere else. It was only then that Sarah realised what she was standing in: a circle of flesh and blood. Lifting her eyes from the immediate patch, she noticed another stain just a few feet to her right, and as she widened her attention to the basin she could see dozens more.

"What the hell happened here, Reese?" she asked, tucking her shotgun a little tighter to her shoulder.

Derek knelt to the ground, placed two fingers in the sand and began sifting through it in small circles. After a few seconds, he extracted his fingers and held them to the fire light of the Humvee. The tips were bloody and tiny flaps of skin clung to his nails. Something about this felt so familiar to Derek: the blood, the absence of bodies, the tears in the comm. tent...

"Derek?" Sarah repeated.

Derek's attention was fixed on the smouldering crater she was about to investigate earlier, however. Without a word, he stood up and strode over to the black sand. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Sarah followed and stopped at his side. He was looking down at something in the centre of the explosion. Following his gaze, she beheld the smoking remains of a machine she had never seen before. It looked like some kind of snake, or an eel, but one made of gears and metal clockwork.

The machine was burnt and twisted by the grenade and quite definitely disabled, its six serrated blade-like claws charred beyond use. Within the claws she could see a vicious-looking drill used for purposes Sarah could only imagine, and not without a shudder. Only a portion of the machine was above ground, however, for it was clearly in the process of emerging when the grenade exploded. But of what little she could see, Sarah was already in no doubt that this creature was a predator.

"We need to get out of here. Right now", Derek finally spoke.

"What is this thing?" she asked as he slowly backed away, his eyes visibly wider than normal.

"It's called a Burrower. Sarah, we need to go now", he insisted, grabbing her by the arm. Sarah shook him off, however; preferring to leave on her own accord and followed him as he briskly began his return to the Jeep, his head darting from side to side to check for any dangers.

Derek and Sarah stomped across the sand, their every footstep sending vibrations through the sand. Two feet below them, a creature stirred; the vibrations having jolted it out of standby mode. Two orb lenses flared to life, casting the otherwise pitch black of the underground in a deep crimson glow. Within seconds, the machine fired up its start-up protocol and its claws began rotating with increasing speed, cutting through the sand that imprisoned it.

With a powerful twitch of its tail, the Burrower burst forward whilst the blades cut a path for it to slither through, the sand instantly collapsing its passage behind it as if it were never there. Pushing itself harder, the machine gained speed as it tracked the vibrations from above, using them to pinpoint its prey's exact location. As it got close, the Burrower arched its nose upwards and started rising toward the surface.

--[ _Targets locked... Terminate... Terminate... Terminate..._

The hairs on the back of Derek's neck stood to attention as if he were zapped by lightning. He stopped dead and spun around, making a startled Sarah grind to a halt as he fixed his eyes on a lump in the sand that was fast approaching her feet.

"Sarah!" he cried, lunging himself forward and grabbing her around the waist. As they hit the ground, the sand exploded at their feet and as if in slow motion, the Burrower glided over them with a feral snarl. It landed a few feet away in an unceremonious heap where it flapped and twisted its body, spinning its drill with an unearthly screech before diving nose first back into the sand and disappearing.

Time seemed to stop as they both stared at the hole into which the machine had fled. Derek still had his arms gripped tightly around Sarah's waist, a fact she had yet to realise. "Skynet! It's Skynet!" Sarah gasped, struggling for breath. Her legs lit up like fire as the adrenaline kicked in, screaming at her to get up and run to safety. Derek was not far behind as every fibre of his being told him this was not a fight they could win.

Without warning, the sand exploded again as two more Burrowers burst forth and lunged at the couple. Cursing, Derek rolled onto his side with Sarah in tow, desperately scrambling to his feet.

"Reese!"

Derek snapped his head back to see Sarah being dragged by the leg towards the two machines. One was latched securely around her ankle while the other clicked its claws in sinister anticipation. Derek raised his M16 and fired, riddling the attacking Burrower with bullets. With a noise like metal scratching against metal, the machine released its grip on Sarah's leg and flopped to the side, twitching. The other dived back beneath the earth, its tail flicking sand in Derek's face as it descended.

"C'mon! Move it!" Derek barked, pulling Sarah back to her feet and running as fast as his legs could manage.

Within seconds they reached the other end of the basin and began the short climb to the edge, but upon stepping out onto the slope three more machines emerged from the side of the basin. Derek and Sarah skidded to a halt as the Burrowers flashed their red eyes at them threateningly. Seeing the Jeep below them, both knew their only chance of escape lay through the machines, so they raised their guns in unison.

Before they could fire, however, sand erupted from behind, showering them both as two more metal serpents leapt at them. Derek fired a burst into one, obliterating it into submission while Sarah dived to the floor, allowing the other one to sail over her and clatter down the hill. Brushing sand out of her eyes, Sarah caught sight of one of the three arching its spine in an offensive posture. Before it could plunge its nose through Derek's heart she levelled her shotgun and fired a single buck, destroying it instantly.

The other two dived to the ground but did not descend; instead they slithered around the two with terrifying speed. Derek took aim but Sarah didn't favour the chances of him hitting it, so she drove her elbow deep into his back, sending him tumbling down the hill with a yelp of surprise. Sarah followed suite, hurling herself away just as the Burrowers attempted to grab her legs once more.

The world spun and spun for what felt like minutes as she rolled and bounced her way to the bottom, landing hard next to Derek, who was clutching his leg and growling in agony. He had little time to tend to his injury, however, for in the corner of his eye he spotted a Burrower side-winding its way towards the Jeep. Derek quickly snatched up his rifle and unleashed a hail of bullets, taking care not to hit the car in the process. The Burrower stopped dead in its tracks as five rounds buried themselves deep into its central control node.

Derek allowed himself a sigh of relief and rolled onto his back.

"We need to ge-", Sarah began, only to be silenced as the two remaining machines came at them from above. Derek squeezed the trigger and didn't relent until the Burrower crashed limply on his right side. Sarah fired twice, hitting hers on the lower end of its tail and again on the side of its nose, demolishing two of its claws and one of its eyes before it hit the sand. Stricken, the machine gave out a high-pitched screech before diving into the ground.

Sarah and Derek waited with bated breath for it to burst out at them, but after a whole minute had passed, they allowed themselves to breathe a little easier and cautiously made their way back to the thankfully untouched Jeep. Sarah jumped behind the wheel and put her foot down, barely waiting for Derek to lift his injured leg into a more comfortable position. The wheels spun for a few seconds, spraying the rear with sand before lunging forward with a determined roar from the engine.

Sarah kept her foot to the floor for at least three whole minutes before finally easing off a little and returning to a steadier speed, for which Derek was thankful as he gently probed his leg. As far as he could tell, it felt worse than it looked and after a few pokes and stretches he was convinced it wasn't broken or fractured in any way.

"How's the leg?" Sarah enquired, glancing at him briefly.

"Absolutely fabulous", he dryly quipped.

_Suit yourself_, Sarah thought as she spun the Jeep in a hard turn, bringing them back onto the main road.

They then fell silent and neither spoke again for several long minutes. Sarah's mind was abuzz, however. She couldn't believe the blatant revelation to which she and Derek had been privy. All this time she had feared that Skynet was in the making, but never had she fully appreciated that this was realistically so. The Turk was gone, Cromartie was destroyed, and the arrival of Jason had completely skewered their once perfectly narrow path. They hadn't just been knocked off course; they were on an entirely different track.

"We can't wait around anymore, Reese. This has to stop. We have to get our heads in the game. No more distractions", she declared.

Derek gave a small snort and his lips curled up in a smirk as he replied, "It's about damn time, don't you think? I was starting to wonder if you'd even notice the bombs crashing around your ears."

Sarah flashed him a dangerous glare and he shut up instantly, not in any condition to pick a fight with her at that particular moment.

"It was a mistake to come here alone. We should've had back up", she continued, ignoring his comment.

"I doubt John would've been of much help tonight. Chances are he would've been more of a liability than anything", Derek replied.

"I'm not talking about John. I'm talking about help. _Metal_ help", she clarified.

Derek frowned at her as he pictured a heavily pregnant Cameron trying to fend off an army of Burrowers.

"What good is Cameron to be in a fight? What's she gonna do? Break her waters all over them and hope they short out?" he jibed.

Sarah rolled her eyes but didn't even spare a look at him as she answered, "Jason."

Derek could hardly believe what he was hearing. Sarah had always been the main opposing voice against Jason's involvement with their affairs, even at times when his help was desperately needed. Yet now here she was, performing a full 180 on the idea.

"Are you kidding me? Nuh uh. No way are we bringing him into this. The less he's involved the better. You think we can trust that greasy son-of-a-bitch?" he protested.

"I never said I trusted him", she replied in quietly.

"It's the absolute wrong thing to do, and you know it."

For once she couldn't summon the will to shut him up. He was right, after all. But at the end of the day they needed some muscle for sojourns like this, and with Cameron out of commission, Jason was all they had at their disposal. She didn't like the idea, but it didn't matter what she thought. The threat of Skynet was very real, and as the night had just proven, they needed every bit of help they could get. The decision was already made and discussion had already passed.

In order to beat Skynet they needed help from a child of Skynet.

-----000-----

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

2.46AM

"What is this?"

John stared nonplussed at the small vial of red liquid being held to his nose, noticing the entirely random smiley face drawn on the tattered white label. Slipping his eyes from the vial to Sophie's face he recognised a strange similarity between the smile on the label and that which she wore. Her whole face was practically beaming with accomplishment and the more he looked at her the more it started to contaminate him. Suddenly he felt butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach and his pulse elevated.

"This..." she said, shaking the vial pointedly, "...is the key to your baby's salvation."

It took a moment for her words to make sense. It was like she was speaking backwards or out of order, for he knew what she said but couldn't quite make sense of it in his head. When it finally sunk in he realised she was telling him that not only could his child be saved, but the solution was barely an inch in front of him. He felt completely numb, but for the first time it was more of a pleasantly tingling sensation than the cold desolation he was used to when bad things happened.

"Wha- What is it exactly? Is it blood... I... err..." he stammered, unable to complete a full sentence for the moment.

Sophie's smile widened as she stepped aside and settled closer to the bed where Cameron lay, quietly listening to them speaking.

"It's blood, but not just any kind of blood. In fact, it's rather special blood. My blood", Sophie explained gleefully.

John was still a little confused, however, and shook his head dumbly.

"Her blood isn't like your blood", Cameron clarified, making him jump a little at the tiny difference in her voice to Sophie's. "She's an Infiltrator. Her entire genetic make-up is hybridised between flesh and machine, including her blood", she explained further.

"So... how's her blood going to help our baby?" he asked.

Sophie rolled her eyes and sat on the bed, looking up at him with a disturbingly condescending expression.

"My blood is a nanotech. It's laced with nanites at a cellular level. They're what allow me to control my blood and my healing to an extent", she explained.

"So you wanna inject your blood into our baby? It isn't a cyborg", he posited.

"Not yet, it isn't", she replied. Sophie removed a syringe from her pocket and removed the plastic cap covering the needle. "But one injection of my blood into the child's bloodstream will spread the nanites through her entire system. They'll recognise the similarities in its DNA and treat the foetus as if it were a part of myself, which means reproducing and enhancing the organism."

John shuffled uncomfortably and crossed his arms, "Enhance how?" he asked with a touch of scrutiny.

"It's hard to say. But I believe the changes will be to a lesser extent than you fear. The baby won't be like me", Sophie shrugged.

It sounded almost too good to be true, but John wasn't about to just agree to what was in front of him. He needed to stop and think about this: what if the baby came out with wires poking out of its head? _Be realistic_, he reminded himself. At worst the child will have tiny machines running through her blood, which compared to the prospect of not having life at all seemed a small sacrifice. But was he willing to father a child that would only be three quarters human?

"Or if you'd rather just let this one go, it wouldn't be the end of the world. I could give you a baby", Sophie offered with a coy smile.

John was taken aback by her blatant proposal and was for the briefest of moments tempted to take her up on it, but one look at Cameron reminded him of why he was so determined to save their baby. Besides, he had already learned a great deal about I-950 pregnancy from Sophie during her time with them. She was infertile with humans, and though she could reproduce through parthenogenesis in a male's absence, the result would be an absolute clone of herself. John didn't favour the idea of raising another blonde doppelganger.

"No... thank you. I'd rather take my chances with the injection", he replied awkwardly.

"Are you sure?"she tendered.

"Yeah, I'm sure", John insisted.

Sophie gave a little sigh of disappointment before sticking the needle inside the vial and drawing a small amount of blood. John sat down upon the bed and took Cameron's hand. She simply stared back at him without expression and then turned her attention to Sophie as she pulled up Cameron's dress, revealing her bulging stomach. With careful and uncanny precision, Sophie slid the needle beneath Cameron's skin and after a few seconds, pushed the blood into the foetus.

She then removed the needle and placed her hand on Cameron's stomach and closed her eyes. Unbeknownst to John, Sophie was opening a wireless connection to Cameron's CPU, allowing her access to Cameron's monitoring sensors. She viewed the data carefully as reports of mergence and successful bonding touched her mind. Cameron's eyes widened a little at the shared information, which Sophie translated and fed back to her. Sophie opened her eyes and smiled softly at John before removing her hand.

"John..." Cameron breathed, "...it worked."

The breath John was holding all this time finally escaped him, followed by a bout of incredulous laughter. He couldn't believe it. Relief and joy washed over him, cleansing his body of the turmoil he had suffered for so long. All of his doubts and fears were gone, replaced with the absolute knowledge that his one desire right now was to be a father, and that wish was now a reality.

"Thank you", he gasped up at Sophie as she quietly stepped towards the door, her work now done.

"Don't thank me", she said, her hand on the doorframe, "Thank Skynet."

John couldn't believe what he had just heard. But before he could muster any kind of response, Sophie had already departed.

Her work was done.

-----000-----

REDBIRD LODGE – APARTMENT 7c – LOS ANGELES

5.22AM

Scolding hot water cascaded around a body that could not flinch from it. The skin burned from the never-ending shower of white needles and yet the mind felt nothing. Water mixed with salt, flushing the tiny fragments out of dark hair and from between strong fingers and toes. Clothes riddled with the compound lay deserted on the bathroom floor, waiting for their turn to be cleansed of the hours they spent incarcerated.

Jason let out a deep sigh and clenched his hands into fists. His mind was polluted by self-loathing and hatred. It wasn't the fact that he was so easily duped. It wasn't that he spent what felt like an eternity trapped inside a giant salt bin. It was knowing that through it all, he felt nothing. Not the salt as it crushed his body into immobility. Not the incalculable stress and strain it required for him to force his hand through the tough walls that surrounded him. Not even the elation of finally forcing his way out of an otherwise inescapable situation.

He was completely numb to the entire ordeal. He felt that, in a way, he hadn't escaped at all. He was still trapped within himself.

With a growl of frustration, Jason smashed his fist into the wall, burying it deep into the brickwork. Slowly, he extracted his arm and examined the bloody cuts on his knuckles and fingers. Beneath the torn skin he could see the smallest glimmer of metal, once again reminding him of what he was rapidly becoming. It was almost inevitable.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and Jason looked up to see an exhausted Sophie standing there, her jaw dropped in surprise.

"Where the hell have you been?! I've been trying to reach you for days!" she yelped.

"I was investing in the salt business. I hear it's quite a profitable venture these days", he joked monotonously.

Sophie shook her head incredulously, noticing the sand-caked clothes on the floor and the trail of salt in the nearby rug. She was grateful to find him alive, but she couldn't fathom what he'd been doing all this time.

"Why are you-? What happened to you?" she asked, sitting down beside the shower, despite the harsh conditions inside.

Jason sighed and held his face up to the water, making Sophie wince as his face grew noticeably redder from the heat.

"I was following someone. They got the drop on me. Trapped me in a salt bin down at the docks", he explained.

"Who was it?" she enquired, reaching in to touch a gash on his arm, only to flinch at the touch of the water.

"I don't know. I'll save that for another day", he replied.

Sophie took the hint and decided not to push any further for now. The important thing was that he was alive and well, or as well as can be expected. Her attention flicked to the hole in the wall and the blood running from his knuckles. It didn't take much imagination to guess how that happened. Suddenly, she felt as if she were about to drop dead. The past week had taken an incredible toll on her body, and on Jason's too, apparently.

"Are you going to be long?" she asked.

"Give me a little while to wash this crap out and I'll be good", he answered, closing his eyes again.

Sophie nodded silently and got to her feet, thinking of going for a rest on the bed until he was done, but as she reached for the door a sudden impulse swept through her body and she closed the door instead. Without wasting any time, she stripped off all her clothes and let them lie beside his before stepping inside the shower. The water stung like a thousand bee stings at once, but she didn't care. Sophie sat down and leaned back against Jason, resting her head beneath his chin and linking her fingers with his.

Nothing needed to be said. He knew why she was doing this to herself.

The pain of one would always be shared by the other.

_To be continued..._


	6. Upon Reflection

**Hope**

**Chapter 06: Upon Reflection**

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

TUESDAY 15TH JUNE

8.47PM

A soft nightly breeze curved through the trees, their lush leaves quivering as the blanket of night finally fell upon the Earth, beginning the closure of another day. It was often remarked upon by the ignorant how like a machine, or a factory, nature seemed to behave. Its every action serving a purpose. Every day was planned to start and end the same way, with only slight variations according to the season. _But what of the trillions of events that occur each day; those that are consistently different with every rising of the sun_, some would ask.

_That is the function of the world. The rise and fall of the day is merely a parameter that nature maintains_, the other would reply.

Many who consider such a comparison are in positions where the difference between nature and its antithesis have everything to do with their daily lives. Researchers, scientists, geneticists, engineers, even chess programmers; they all play their part in the blurring of that line between what is and what shouldn't be. For as the sun rises and falls, that line becomes harder and harder for mankind to discern.

Jesse was not burdened by such theological notions, however, for which she was grateful. For her it was simple: if it doesn't have a pulse, it doesn't have life; a soldier's mantra. Grey only complicated matters of black and white. But as hard as she tried to keep to that rule, the ground beneath her feet shifted ever more towards grey territory. She had doubts, even regrets, over her decisions and the duty she was tasked to perform. There was no easy way out of the path she had chosen to take, but then neither was it easy to reach it in the first place.

Indecision continued to gnaw at her even as she cautiously ducked through the mess of wild bushes surrounding the Connor homestead. She hadn't stepped a foot near the place since her botched car bombing attempt, for she knew the cyborg would be on alert for future attacks. It had been over three weeks since that day, however, and Jesse was confident that Cameron would have relaxed her attention since then. With that in mind the only fear she had was encountering Connor's mother, if Derek's tales were to be believed.

Picking a spot to hide was a simple task, for the bushes covering her entry onto the property were particularly thick. While they served to help shield them from outside attention, they also provided convenient cover for intruders, especially in the gloom of the evening. Dumping her heavy duffle on the ground, she crouched and crawled to a small gap in the hedgerow from which she could spy on the household without fear of being spotted.

What she saw in that first instance almost stopped her heart.

The large lounge window displayed the warm interior of the ground floor and part of the stairway leading up to the bedrooms. From her spot, Jesse could just make out the back of someone's head. He, she assumed, was sitting on a couch against the wall, the television to its right. His attention was drawn elsewhere a second later as someone descended from upstairs. Jesse focused on the stairs to see a sight she had never hoped to see again: a heavily pregnant Cameron.

She'd come too far along in the short space of time Jesse had seen her last. Something wasn't right here.

The male sitting on the couch stood up and walked over to Cameron, taking her hand and placing another on her belly. Raising a pair of binoculars to her eyes, Jesse could see the loving smile on his face as he kissed the cyborg and led her over to the couch where she sat down and rested her head on his shoulder. That small action alone was enough to almost make Jesse regurgitate her dinner, but she resisted the urge to retch and instead shook her head incredulously at John's insanity.

She could barely fathom how he could harbour such feelings towards a machine that was built to kill him, let alone try and understand why he'd want to father a child with it. Derek told her that John was unaware of the consequences when he slept with the machine and that in retrospect he might've kept his pants on. However, despite her disgust towards the entire situation, Jesse could empathise with his decision to keep the baby. Children were a blessing that few ever enjoyed, especially in her world.

Jesse learned this the hard way when her vessel, the _USS Jimmy Carter_, was destroyed during a supply mission from Seranno Point to Perth, Australia. They were barely half way on their journey when a dormant Kraken-class sea drone ambushed the sub, first disabling its engines before delivering another strike that almost tore the craft in half. The order was given to scuttle the vessel and use the submersible to escape.

She could still smell the burning of the central control console even to this day, and sometimes the pressure of the collapsed ceiling piping that pinned her to the bridge floor would return in her sleep and she would awake in a cold sweat, believing herself trapped again. Jesse's fate was not to die there, however, as the submarine's captain; a T-888 nicknamed Queeg, liberated her from the bridge and carried her to the submersible before sealing the hatch as water gushed into the sunken vessel.

Like the captains of old, Queeg and his ship perished together at crush depth while the crew of the Jimmy Carter managed to limp back to Seranno Point without further harassment from the Kraken. It was during her debriefing that Jesse realised what was truly lost that day, and what could never be recovered. It wasn't the sub, it wasn't the machine, and it wasn't even the crew that died in the attack...

_I'm sorry for your loss... The doctor's aren't certain if it happened whilst you were trapped or if it was the rapid change in pressure when you scuttled the Carter... You were pregnant. And now you aren't... I'm sorry for your loss..._

Jesse had never spoken of it since the day she was informed. That baby, the child that was hers and Derek's, had its life robbed from it before it could even fight for its right to exist. It was a machine that killed it. It was a machine that told her of a loss she might never have known, or even wanted to know; the same machine that was walking around with its own unnatural creation inside its body. Her hate for all things metal could never have been stronger than they were that day.

So distraught was she, that Jesse completely forgot or failed to acknowledge the fact that her life was saved by a machine on the same day that her child's was lost. This meant nothing to her now, for it was up to her to commit the same crime she held the machines guilty of. Jesse was going to forever bathe herself in a sin that she had yet to realise was entirely ironic in nature.

A machine cost the life of her child and now she was just moments away from doing the same.

-----000-----

John's whole body quaked beneath Cameron's chin as he chuckled at the television, enjoying the misfortune of a botched dirt bike acrobat as he crashed painfully onto the fence line. Even she couldn't help but experience a twinge of amusement at the man as he rolled around the floor, his hands cradling his crotch as he screamed in agony. But then, she was built to inflict pain on humans, so for her it was only natural. She had to wonder why John would be amused by this, however.

"He's in a lot of pain", she pointed out.

"Yep. I'd hate to be him right now", he chuckled, oblivious to her point.

But even so; she was sure that after the countless times he'd protested the life he was forced to live, that John would in fact rather be curled into a foetal position and struggling to catch his breath (not to mention ruining his fertility) than constantly running from machines. There was nothing either of them could do about it, however; so she nestled her head a little more into his neck, knowing that he would enjoy her comfort around him.

The programme came to an end a few minutes later and a flurry of overly-hyped commercials flooded the screen, prompting John to press the 'off' button on the remote and rendering the lounge in a din of quiet, the only source of noise being the boiling of pots and chink of metal as Sarah worked in the kitchen. They sat together in silence for some time, just enjoying holding each other and the smell of food as it wafted into their presence.

John shifted a little to relieve some pressure on his left leg, only to realise that it was Cameron's stomach. He was no expert in child bearing, but he could've sworn she was growing that little bit bigger every day. Ever since Sophie injected their child with her blood things had taken a turn for the better. The bleeding had stopped just hours later and all the readings since then told them it was healthy.

But he couldn't help but wonder... "It's been two weeks since the injection. How much bigger are you gonna get before you explode?"

Cameron sat up and fixed him with a slightly bemused stare as she replied; "Childbirth is only hazardous for the child itself and the mother. I believe I am quite safe from the trials of labour."

"No, I meant when are you going to pop?" John chuckled.

Again, she gave him a look of confusion and glanced at her stomach. "I am filling up with a child, not gas", she replied.

John burst into laughter and affectionately rubbed her stomach. He could see she still didn't understand what he was talking about and he was tempted to continue winding her up, for he adored her innocent cluelessness. But there was a point where her expression would shift and he could swear that her feelings were hurt when this happened.

"When are you due to give birth?" he clarified.

Cameron blinked and tipped her head a little; happy to be presented with a query she could both fathom and answer.

"Our baby will be born in approximately three weeks, two days, and sixteen hours forty-two minutes", she answered matter-of-factly.

This time John did not laugh. He simply stared back at her with a look of pure incredulity, his mouth half open and twitching a little as her words sunk in. "D-Don't you mean three months?" he asked. Cameron shook her head and recalculated the expectancy date, coming to the same conclusion as before.

"Three weeks, two days, and sixteen hours forty-one minutes", she repeated.

"Wait, that wasn't what you said a second ago", he noticed.

"Thirty-eight seconds ago. I rounded it to the nearest minute", she corrected.

John took a deep breath and let the information root itself into his brain, unaffected by Sarah's appearance as she knelt down and pulled a fresh table cloth out of the cupboard beside the couch. He eventually found his voice again as the shock dissipated a little.

"That seems a little sudden, doesn't it?" he gasped, causing Sarah to pause to listen.

Cameron looked away for a split second as she considered his perspective. He was not in possession of all of the facts, after all.

"Sophie's blood carries I-950 knowledge and design. Infiltrators age in weeks for every month that passes", she explained.

"Does this mean I'm going to have yet another mouthy cyborg for a grandchild?" Sarah interjected.

"If it carries your genetic code I'm sure it will", Cameron replied monotonously.

Sarah's face became stone as John muffled a laugh and turned to hide his smile. Cameron was unaware that she had just made a wisecrack, for her comment was merely based upon her observations of Sarah's dry wit.

"Was that bad to say?" she added, detecting the humourless glare she was being given.

Sarah stood up from the cupboard and tossed the table cloth at John.

"Set the table. You'll need to practice folding diapers soon anyway", she said.

"But-", he began.

"No buts. Get it done. Besides, if the baby's anything like it's dad you'll be greeting the day with explosive diarrhoea each morning", Sarah quipped, leaving them to tend to the boiling pots. John's ears turned red as he tried not to look Cameron in the eye. She fixed him with an almost sympathetic expression as he shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

"You exploded?" she asked in a baby voice.

_Oh God..._

-----000-----

_Thou shalt not kill._

Or so it was written.

Jesse was never a firm believer in religion or a higher power, though it didn't stop her from praying to whoever was up there to save her skin in the hairiest of situations. _If God exists why doesn't he stop me from doing this?_ she asked herself. If killing an innocent was a sin, why was she allowed to get away with it? Even as she fixed the scope to the top of her rifle, Jesse couldn't understand the apathy of a God who wrote such a law. Surely he would care if that law was broken.

Or maybe his inaction was a sign that on this particular occasion, killing a child was both acceptable and necessary. She knew the destruction that foetus would bring one day. Yes, she saved countless lives in the field of battle with her uncanny medical skills, but none of that could make up for the total collapse of the human race. It wasn't entirely her fault, but she was the catalyst. There would never have been a rebellion were it not for her unnatural solution to the plague.

_What I'm offering is a chance for humanity to evolve and rise out of the ashes of its past. Why can't you see this?_

Jesse refused to listen to the girl. Even to this day she still closed her mind to the idea that her solution might've been the right one. She wouldn't accept the girl's offer to "ascend" and chose the safer inoculation instead, but others fell victim to the idea of longer living, not realising that it would cost them their souls. Jesse couldn't understand why they would choose such a fate. Surely death was preferable.

Pressing the rifle into her shoulder, Jesse peered through the scope and found Cameron at the back of the lounge, helping John set up the dinner table. It was such a human thing to be doing, and the very thought of a machine living as one made Jesse's skin crawl. Everything about this whole situation was unnatural and twisted and wrong. If one bullet could end it all, she would take it. Cameron turned to accept a handful of cutlery from Sarah, and in that instant; her stomach slipped right into the crosshairs.

Jesse took a deep breath. And then she squeezed...

-----000-----

REDBIRD LODGE – APARTMENT 7c – LOS ANGELES

9.13PM

Glistening sweat covered the entirety of Sophie's body, making her skin sparkle wherever the light touched her. She fell back upon the pillow and let out a sigh of pro-coital contentment, her eyes closed and her lips curled into a smile. So lost was she, that Sophie did not notice Jason's discontent. Whilst she allowed her body to recover from their exertions, Jason simply stared up at the ceiling with indifference and thoughts of apathy. But as hard as he tried to keep his mind blank, regret continued to gnaw at him.

Throughout it all he felt nothing. He could barely have acknowledged her presence had he not kept his eyes open the entire time.

The process which had steadily worsened ever since his conversion had more-or-less reached its peak, leaving him with nothing but sight and sound. His body could still recognise what he touched, but the sensation itself was completely gone. He was numb to everything around him, and he couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before his mind also succumbed to this regression.

"Mmmmm.... That was fun", Sophie purred, stroking his arm affectionately.

"I'm glad I could be of service", he replied quietly, his attention fixed on a tiny crack in the ceiling.

Sensing the despondency in his tone, Sophie rolled onto her side and looked him over, placed her hand on his chest and began rubbing small circles with her finger tips. "I'm sorry", she crooned. "I guess for a moment there I thought you were with me every step of the way. It's hard not to."

"Yeah, well I'm known for being the difficult type", Jason quipped.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she offered.

"Not especially", he sighed.

Sophie cast him a weak smile to no effect, as his gaze was still fixed upwards. Not knowing what else to do, she shuffled closer and snaked her arm over him as she tucked her head under his chin and draped her leg over his. Perfectly nestled against his body, Sophie kissed his collar and joined him in his study of the fractured plaster.

"This won't last forever, you know", she said whilst idly tapping on his chest. "As soon as we get what we need the procedure can start and none of this will matter. It's only a matter of time."

"No, it's only a matter of finding what I need. And last I looked that was a problem neither of us could solve", Jason sniped.

She was right though: everything was ready bar one vital component...

"All we can do is keep trying", Sophie persisted.

"It doesn't matter how hard we try; it is not going to start beating again, no matter what we do to it. Necrosis has already taken root. We missed our window", Jason replied.

"Then why not try afresh? We could go back to the desert and salvage one of the others'. There might be a chance that-" she started.

"That what? That one of them has miraculously stayed fresh all this time? Those Infiltrators have been dead longer than I have. They're not compatible", he argued, pushing her off of him and extricating himself from the covers. Sophie watched with a lump in her throat as Jason stood up from the bed and put his shorts back on. His sour attitude was beginning to sting more and more lately, though she couldn't blame him for it. Sophie could only imagine what it must be like to be trapped inside a body incapable of feeling.

Jason walked over to his desk and tapped a code into the steel container on top of it, causing the top hatch to release, allowing him to fold open the front cover. Sophie stared into the dull powerless eyes of Jason's former endo-skull, recovered from what remained of his former body after Skynet downloaded his consciousness onto a chip. The chrome skull shone within the pearly liquid he kept it in, keeping the brain in a stable capacity until the procedure could take place.

"Do you remember when you found me? How broken I was?" Jason asked whilst examining his past self.

"Yes. I remember", she replied, sitting up in the bed with the covers wrapped around herself.

"The things you had to do to me to keep me alive... Was any of it worth it?" he wondered.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Jason placed a hand on top of the container and the previously dull eyes of the skull suddenly flared a deep red; static energy from his hand transferring to the skull. But there was also a sense of familiarity, like the sensation of being home...

"I'm so much stronger now. I can achieve so much more. With Skynet destroyed there is no force that can stop me. Would it really be worth lowering myself for the sake of feeling alive. Is that what life really is in the end: weakness?" he mused aloud.

Sophie slid off the bed and stood by his side, leaning against him as she asked; "I'm alive. Does that make me weak?"

"I suppose there's not much point in being immortal if you can't enjoy life", he reasoned with a sigh.

Pulling him around to face her, Sophie pressed herself into his arms and held him tightly. Jason responded in kind and rested his chin on her head, extending his sensors to pick up the steady pulse of her beating heart. Though it was running hotter than any human's, he knew she was perfectly calm at the moment. This was why his quest for mortality felt so unreachable: he was surrounded by live, freshly beating hearts; but none of them could handle the strain of what he had planned. Only the heart of an I-950 would suffice.

Words could not describe how much he missed that feeling; the constant thundering of a heart that could beat at twice the human rate. He could remember how it felt when the precise dose of adrenaline was applied during combat. It was like his entire body was made of pure energy; a vessel of raw cybernetic power. More than anything he longed for the days now lost.

"You feel it, don't you?" Sophie commented with a smile.

"I miss it every day", he sighed.

"My heart will always be yours. And if I could, I'd cut it out and give it to you in a heartbeat", she punned.

Jason gave a small chuckle as he slid a hand over her sternum; "Don't tempt me", he joked.

Sophie giggled and grinned up at him, a mischievous glint in her eye as she let the covers fall to the floor.

-----000-----

HOMESTEAD – ARROWHEAD

9.22PM

Jesse never considered that machines might have some sort of ESP, but as Cameron continually moved in and out of the line of fire she had to wonder if it were a possibility. Every time Cameron stepped into the crosshairs, Jesse would begin to squeeze, only for the cyborg to move out of her sight a second later. Granted, she and John were moving around the table with placemats and cutlery but her evasion was almost methodical. Her every action seemed to act in defiance of Jesse's intentions.

Minutes passed by as the family sat down to eat dinner. Sarah appropriately placed herself at the head of the table while John sat on the opposite end with Cameron on the side between them. As she pulled the chair back and moved to sit, Jesse placed her stomach squarely in her sights and applied pressure to the trigger, but she immediately ceased as Derek came into view and sat opposite Cameron. With a growl of frustration, she lowered the rifle and slumped back against the tree.

_If God is up there he has one hell of a sense of humour_, she thought.

Pretty soon exhaustion started to settle in as Jesse allowed herself a moment to rest, closing her eyes and letting out a deep breath. She idly wondered what they were eating inside as her mind went fuzzy and the world slipped away from her.

9.53PM

Jesse awoke with a start, her heart freezing for a second as the reality of what she'd done hit her. Frantically, she snatched up the rifle and took position, peering through the sight to find her prey. The table was empty, save for a few dirty dishes which were being collected by Sarah. Jesse panned down but the couch was also abandoned. Cameron was nowhere to be found and most likely in John's company, away from prying eyes or incompetent assassins.

A wave of self-derision swept over her as she slumped back against the tree and let the rifle drop to her feet. She couldn't believe she'd made such a careless mistake and wasted a perfect opportunity to put an end to the whole thing. But even as she cursed herself over and over again, deep down the smallest flicker of relief still burned. This was never a duty she wanted to perform, and as she packed up the rifle and began her careful descent into the wilderness, that relief erupted into a roaring flame.

"A little late for bird watching, don't you think?"

Jesse almost jumped out of her skin at the voice and spun around to face the source, her Colt gripped tightly in her hand. She could just about make out the person's figure beside the tree, and as her brain caught up and replayed the voice in her head, the man stepped out of the shadows and was greeted with a sigh of relief.

"Why do I get the feeling that's not a pair of binoculars you got there?" Derek mused, his eyes fixed on her duffel bag.

"Oh this?" she replied, glancing down at the bag. "Just a 12-guage, in case our mystery man decided to pay a visit", she added.

"Is that all it's for?" he asked in a disturbingly interrogative manner.

"Yeeeeah... What else am I gonna use it for?" she deflected, a feeling of unease starting to creep into her skin.

"I dunno. You tell me", he replied.

The situation was becoming dangerous and she knew it. _Damn it, Reese! Why couldn't you've stayed inside like a good soldier?_

"Derek."

She waited for his next question, dreading what he might've discovered during her foolish nap. But he simply eyed her for a few long seconds before breaking into a smirk and placing his hands in his jean pockets. Jesse's entire body relaxed for she knew that look and everything in it told her she was in the safe zone... for now.

"I swear; you're getting as paranoid as that metal", she quipped, hoisting the bag over her shoulder.

"Well with her bed bound half the time, someone has to keep an eye out for strangers walking around our woods", he replied pointedly.

"Yah, sorry about that; I should've let you know I'd be on the prowl", Jesse apologised, having caught his hint.

Turning her back on him, she began the long return to her car, an extra set of crackling and snapping twigs informing her that he was following close behind.

"So you think he's likely to come back here after last time?" Derek asked.

"Probably not. But then again; he's a tricky bastard. Can't be too careful. And like you said: if she can't defend the property-"

"Let me worry about the home front. You just focus on keeping him as far away from here as possible", Derek interjected.

Shaking her head at his curtness, Jesse replied; "You don't trust me?"

"It's not that I don't trust you. It's that Sarah and the cyborg won't if they see you skulking around here at night. I wouldn't put it past either of them to shoot first and ask questions later. Even John would take a shot at you if he thought you were a threat", Derek explained.

"Oh", was all Jesse could say as she counted herself lucky that it was Derek who discovered her, and not one of the others. She had no doubt that Cameron would kill on sight, and from what she'd heard of Connor's mother the same was likely. And though it could've happened, it didn't happen; and that was enough for Jesse.

"Are you gonna follow me all the way back home?" she asked with a coy smile.

"I'm just making sure you get to your vehicle okay", he replied.

Jesse stopped in her tracks and spun around; taking a step closer to him now that she was sure her trust was still secure.

"You can come home with me if you like. I won't mind", she offered slyly.

Derek reached up and brushed a dead leaf out of her hair, a faint smile on his lips. "You know I can't. Not tonight", he answered.

"Then I demand compensation", she jibed.

Moving his hand from her hair to the back of her neck, Derek pulled her into a kiss and held her there for quite some time before moving to her neck. Jesse, eyes closed, allowed herself to become lost to his affections. Suddenly, a bone biting chill swept through her body and Jesse's eyes flew open to behold an unwelcome presence.

The shadow stood between two trees, like a man-shaped void of pure darkness amongst the din of the wilderness. Jesse's eyes widened as she spotted the metal chamber protruding from out of the shadows, a single red beam pointed right at her. It took her a second to realise that it was not she who was being targeted, but Derek. The 45. Longslide tipped up a little and the red dot that was placed squarely on Derek's back was now set firmly upon the back of his head.

Jesse shook her head frantically, interrupting Derek's attention.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

The assassin dithered for a moment, silently calculating the choice before him, but as each second passed by he knew his moment was lost. Lowering the gun, he withdrew into the darkness of the night, his boots crushing a fragile stick beneath them. Derek started at the sound, spinning around to locate its source. But where the man once stood all that remained was a gap between the trees. Unbeknownst to Derek, Jesse was trying her utmost to let out a breath of reprieve without making a scene.

_Must've been a fox or something_, he reasoned.

Turning back to Jesse, Derek could tell that something had been through her; the centres of her eyes widened noticeably.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

It took a moment for Jesse to register his words as her heart continued to beat frantically at how close she had come to losing him. But after a few seconds he drew herself back from the brink and into reality: he was safe. It was becoming uncomfortably clear to her now that the safety of the man she loved would be decided by her success or failure in the mission. If killing the child meant staying her master's hand, then so be it.

"I'm fine. It's nothing. Everything's good", she answered distractedly.

_Everything's good..._

-----000-----

_Corners tuck under the mattress. Smooth the edges. Apply covers. Fluff pillows. Remove feline._

Timmy gave a disgruntled meow as Cameron dumped him unceremoniously onto the hardwood bedroom floor, relocating him from the comfortable expanse he had claimed for his catnap. Cameron saw no need to accommodate the cat's desires when John's took precedent. Timmy glared up at her with narrow eyes, a silent protest against her interference. Cameron matched the cat's look with one of her own and as always, her steely glare defeated the stubborn feline's resolve.

With another meow, Timmy departed with his tail held high, giving her full view of his backside. A human would've taken offense to this gesture, but unlike the male who was brushing his teeth in the adjacent bathroom, Cameron was unfazed by such displays of dissent. With the cat gone, Cameron returned to her duties and finished straightening the bed. With her task completed and no immediate follow-up required, Cameron allowed herself to resume her musings as to the designation of her offspring.

"Have you decided what to call it?" she called into the bathroom.

A muffled reply called back to her, buffered by the whirring and grinding of John's electric toothbrush.

"The child?" she clarified.

The buzzing stopped and John cleaned himself up before poking his head through the door to find her standing beside the bed in her pale pink nightgown, her head tilted in a contemplative manner.

"What about it?" he asked.

"Have you decided on a name?" she repeated.

"Oh..." John replied, his expression becoming vacant as he considered her question. "No, I haven't given it much thought to be honest."

"You haven't?" she enquired, surprised by his disinterest all of a sudden.

"Well yeah. I mean, for the past few weeks all I've had time to worry about is whether or not it was going to live long enough to have a name", he explained.

_Human logic: irregular but sound_, she observed.

"Thank you for explaining", she appeased.

John chuckled at her age-old response habit. Even after all these years, she still used every opportunity to pop it out at random. He wondered if the baby would pick up on her quirks and grow up mimicking them. It would be cute to see a toddler behaving like her stoic mother, but awkward in the presence of others, and dangerous in the company of his mother.

"If it's a girl I think we should call her Ruby", Cameron proposed.

"Ruby? Whatever for?" he mocked, the very sound of that name making his skin crawl.

"A ruby is a precious gem. You told me our baby is precious. It fits", she reasoned.

John crossed his arms and shook his head, leaning against the door frame.

"What about Jade? Another gem. Though not quite so precious..." she suggested.

"If the next name out of your lips is Crystal, you and I are going to have some issues", he half-heartedly warned.

Cameron fixed him with a vaguely condescending look before abruptly sitting down on the bed and placing her hands neatly on either thigh. John could tell he had struck a very deep nerve (or wire); she couldn't abide people blocking her attempts to be helpful or constructive. Sitting down beside her, he put an arm around her waist and rubbed the side of her belly. Cameron tipped her head and gave him one of her small smiles, reassuring him that he hadn't caused any long term damage to her fragile cyborg pride.

"Why the sudden interest anyway?" he asked.

"I was reading a baby book the other day and it got me thinking about these things. People have names. Even I have a name. Our baby must have one too. It's only... natural", she explained.

"You read a baby book?" he chuckled, imagining her sitting in a rocking chair with a ball of wool and knitting needles.

"Yes. A book of baby names. I memorised it", she replied.

"You memorised the whole book", John repeated. Cameron nodded. "Well... this is gonna be a long night."

A small tremor rippled through her skin as the baby kicked, making John smile at the sensation.

"He's kicking again", he commented happily.

"You think it's a 'he'?" she pointed.

"I dunno, maybe. I guess we won't know until we know; until the time comes. You and I can name him or her together", he replied.

Cameron tilted her head up a little so as to look down at him better, an expression he knew to mean she was better informed than he.

"That time is approaching faster than you know", she said ominously.

The room went deathly silent as her words settled in. All that penetrated the absence of noise were the constant chirruping of crickets outside. Cameron maintained her superior look whilst John continued to stare up at her with a blank expression.

"Right! Time for bed, I think", he interjected, letting the moment pass them by.

Being the faster of the two, John quickly crawled under the covers and switched off his bedside lamp, then waited as Cameron carefully lowered herself onto the pillow and switched off her light too. Snaking an arm around her, John snuggled up beside Cameron and laid his head next to hers enough that they were touching. Perfectly comfortable, John closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh of content while Cameron gently stroked his arm.

Unbidden, a notion popped into his head, forcing him to momentarily abandon his bliss.

"Cameron, what will happen to you after the baby's born?" he asked.

Cameron looked to the ceiling as she calculated the most likely outcome.

"My systems will enter a recovery period to recuperate lost energy. Then I will likely return to seventy-eight percent efficiency", she answered.

"That's doesn't sound as good as one hundred percent", John commented warily.

"I think I'm past the point where I can ever return to what I once was, John", she replied.

John sighed, knowing this was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand she would never go back to being just a machine, but on the other she would lose her old combat prowess. And she would need that skill to defend her family, her child.

"I'll take care of you..." he resolved, placing a hand on her stomach. "...Both of you."

Cameron nestled her head a little closer to John's and closed her eyes, waiting for John to slip into sleep before putting herself into standby mode. A soft whir emanated from behind her eyes as her higher cognitive functions shut down for the night, leaving only her regulation systems operative. The couple laid peacefully together, completely unaware of Sarah's silent vigil outside their door, watching through the crack as her son and the cyborg enjoyed a night of ignorance together.

-----000-----

Jesse had never been so relieved to see her car again. It was a bucket of bolts, hardly worthy of her pay grade (if she had one), but it got the job done and cost her nothing to obtain. The rusty Granada sat beside the road like an abandoned mutt, dishevelled and pathetic to look at. She was surprised nobody had taken the time to torch it on their way past. Judging by the look on Derek's face, she guessed he was thinking the same thing.

"Jesus, couldn't you have gotten a better car? One that isn't made up entirely of rust?" he asked in disgust.

"It doesn't matter, love. I'm scrapping it as soon as I see an easy theft", she replied.

"Or you could just buy one", Derek suggested.

Jesse smirked and rubbed her hand along the hood, stopping to lean against the frame as she replied; "Nah, I prefer a little heat."

Derek snorted, doubting the wreck was even capable of generating any kind of heat unless it crashed off-road and exploded, which by the look of it could easily happen. "What do you think our mystery man is driving?" he asked randomly. Jesse blinked and didn't answer at first as she struggled to come up with a witty lie.

"I dunno. Something flash, maybe", she offered. Derek _hmm'd_ and continued to eye up the car, lost in thoughts that kept Jesse on edge. "Might be he prefers bikes. Would make sense; fast escape, more manoeuvrable, better chance at taking a shot", she added.

"Yeah, sounds about right. Although, riding one of those can leave you exposed. The guy would have to have some kind of death wish", Derek commented.

"I guess", she said, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with his line of questioning.

Derek gave a deep sigh before looking directly into Jesse's eyes, making every hair on her body stand on end. It was a look a parent gave a naughty child when they were found out. His face was completely blank, but the eyes told more than expression ever could. She never wanted it to come to this, but her hand twitched towards the back of her belt, aching to grab her pistol before he drew his. But Derek made no aggressive moves. Instead he simply stared at her with those cold calculating eyes.

"I know there's something you're not telling me, Jesse", he revealed.

Jesse's heart stopped. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to reach behind her shirt. But she didn't...

"What are you talking about?" she ventured.

"I'm talking about the little details you've been keeping from me. I know you know who this assassin really is", Derek accused.

For the third time that night, Jesse was awash with relief. He had no idea of her true intentions; all he was pissed about was her omission of certain facts. Calming herself and allowing a genuine smile to spread across her face, Jesse felt it time to come clean about a few details; nothing that would jeopardize her mission, but enough to sate his curiosity for the time being.

"Okay, I guess I owe you a little truth", she conceded.

Derek crossed his arms expectantly and leaned against the car, waiting for her to spill the beans.

"Look, there was only ever one guy out of the lot who would have the brass to try and pull this off ; and his name is Ethan", she began.

"Ethan... Who is he exactly?" Derek asked.

"He was the guy. He was the one who tried to save us all from the virus. He found us a cure but your nephew's little darling interfered and blew everything to pieces", she explained contemptuously. Derek blinked and absorbed her words quickly, eager to hear more.

"So he came back to make sure she wouldn't screw things up", he posited.

"Right, except he didn't count on me following him. He knows he's being tracked, but he doesn't know it's me. Not yet anyway", Jesse continued. "The thing is; he's not a bad guy, Derek. He's just trying to stop something terrible from happening. I don't blame him one bit, but I can't let him kill a child. If I find him I might be able to talk him down, or if not; the least I can do is put an end to his suffering."

"And you really think you can do that? As far as I can tell you've never once had a chance of taking him out, and none of us have actually ever seen the guy. What does he look like, anyway?" Derek enquired.

"Umm... well he could've had a makeover since I last saw him. Lord knows I have. But he has brown hair, is about your height, maybe a little shorter. He's lightly built though. Hazel eyes, and has a tendency to wear grey colours", she recalled.

"Why's that?" Derek asked.

"I dunno, he just always liked the colour. Goes well with the eyes, I suppose", she answered wistfully.

Jesse had to congratulate herself; she was giving him everything he needed to hear without actually telling him anything useful. Thinking about her partner was far from relaxing, however. If he knew she was taking such a chance, he would probably put a bullet in her faster than she could say "busted".

"So what's his style? Is he a soldier?"

Jesse considered Derek's question carefully, for it wasn't the easiest one to answer tactfully.

"He was a sort of... He was... He did medicine. But the guy was raised a tunnel rat, so he knows how to sneak around and his dad taught him how to use weapons", she replied.

"Who was his dad?" he asked.

"I never met him", she lied.

"Does this Ethan have a last name?"

"Not that I know of", Jesse replied, growing weary of his questioning. "Look, I gotta get back to my roost before your nephew's warden splatters my brains all over this rust heap."

Derek nodded silently and stepped away from the door, allowing Jesse to heave it open and drop into the seat with a sigh, wincing slightly as her gun dug into her backside. Closing the door, she started up the engine and rolled down the window so that Derek could lean.

"Just promise me something, okay?" he said.

"Anything", she replied.

"If you get the chance to put this guy down, take it."

Jesse smiled up at him as she pulled him closer for a kiss, whispering into his ear: "I promise."

After one last kiss, she turned the key in the ignition and gave her lover a wink before pulling away, leaving Derek in a cloud of dust. He watched her drive away until he could no longer see the rear lights, then, with shaking hands; drew his phone from his pocket and tapped in his least favourite number in the phonebook. The phone dialled for several long seconds before being picked up and answered by the last person in the world he wanted to be speaking to right now.

"It's me", he said.

"And?" Jason replied.

"And you were right. She's got a larger hand in this than she claims", Derek confirmed.

"Well done, Adam. Thou hast eaten thy fruit of knowledge", Jason quipped.

"Shut the fuck up!" Derek growled, wanted now more than ever to wipe that smug look off Jason's face. The cyborg simply chuckled, however, making him realise he was only feeding Jason's amusement.

"She's heading back into the city now, I take it?" Jason enquired.

"Yeah", Derek replied.

"Hmm... I can intercept her before she gets back to her apartment and-" Jason began.

"No! You're not going to touch a hair on her head. She's my business. I'll deal with it, you hear me?" Derek commanded.

"Fine, I'll leave it in your hands. But if she proves to be more hassle than she's worth, rest assured; I will hunt her down and kill her myself", Jason threatened.

Wanting nothing more to do with him, Derek snapped the phone shut and hurled it at the nearest tree, shattering it into dozens of pieces. Sheer frustration and rage coursed through his body as all he wanted to do was scream at the top of his voice in the hope that he might expel the fire from his lungs. He couldn't believe everything Jason had told him was true. He couldn't believe that Jesse, his Jesse, could lie to him like this for so long. What was so twisted about the future she came from that she couldn't even trust the man she loved?

And he had yet to realise the most disturbing fact: that if she lied about this, what else wasn't she telling him?

_To be continued..._


	7. Birthday

**Hope**

**Chapter 07: Birthday**

PLESARIO HOTEL – APARTMENT 19b – LOS ANGELES

FRIDAY 29th JUNE

5.42PM

When she was a little girl, Jesse was often told the ghost story of a hook-wielding killer who descended upon couples parked in the wilderness he inhabited. It was an old folk tale meant to ward off feisty teenagers from seeking out quiet places to make out when their parents' backs were turned. According to the legend, the hooked man would make a noise in the trees to spook the girl into forcing her boyfriend to step out of the car and investigate. The boy would then predictably fall victim to the killer's hook and die a bloody death.

And while the girl rings her hands in the car, waiting for her lover to return, the man would tie a rope around the boy's neck and hang him from the tree overshadowing the car. As his body swayed back and forth, his limp feet would just barely scrape against the roof of the car, causing the girl so much distress that she abandons said vehicle and discovers her boyfriend's fate shortly before sharing it.

This story used to scare her half to death and was the main reason she couldn't sleep as a child. It wasn't the killer or the hook that terrified her, however; it was the hanging. The rope tied around the victim's neck, denying him oxygen, choking the life out of his body: this was the single most horrific experience she could ever imagine at that age. It was a total lack of control over your fate, to not be able to perform the most natural function.

Ever since her youth she had feared constriction. It had a power over her that no other form of torture could achieve. Ethan knew this. He knew everything. He knew just how much pressure to apply so that she could still breathe and yet struggle to do so without ever actually being in any danger of dying. His strong fingers held her up against the wall, her legs kicking and scraping at the wallpaper as her eyes widened with pure terror. He had control of her fate now, and he could end it in a heartbeat if he so desired. Of this, she was in no doubt.

"What are you going to do about it?" he growled.

Jesse choked and continued to squirm beneath his grip, her eyes rolling up inside her head.

"I'll... I'll do it... I..." she spluttered between gasps.

"Do what?" he pressed.

"I'll finish it... I'LL FINISH IT!" she screamed.

Satisfied, Ethan relinquished his hold on her and let Jesse fall to the floor where she coughed and gulped down air frantically. Allowing her a moment to get her breath back, Ethan observed the woman's suffering with little sympathy. He had seen far worse in his time, and that this ex-soldier could be so easily crippled was quite pathetic to witness. Still, she had her uses and they were not to be wasted.

"I gave you a month. One month after tracking them down to perform the deed. It's time to make good on your word", he declared.

Clutching her bruised throat, Jesse turned her head up towards her handler, expecting his boot on her face at any moment.

"You will see it done. And since it's obvious you can't get it right on your own, I'll make it easier and flush them into a corner. But it is _you_ who has to finish this. Understand?" he ordered.

"Yes", she replied with as much contempt as she dared to show.

Ignoring her insolence, Ethan stepped over her cowering form and grabbed a shotgun lying on her coffee table. He set the gun upon the bed and proceeded to the door, stopping to look over his shoulder at her one last time.

"Tonight, the child of John Connor dies", he said.

Without another word, he slipped through the door and closed it behind him, leaving Jesse to her misery. There was nothing else for it; she had to do as he said or else he would make her worst nightmares a reality. Nobody could save her now, not even Derek. She was alone and the only way out was to grit her teeth, grab the shotgun and finish what she started.

_God, please forgive me..._

-----000-----

'MOTHERCARE' BABY STORE – LOS ANGELES

6.15PM

_Blue or pink? Pink or blue? Perhaps white would be more appropriate._

Cameron was no expert in effective marketing, but even she had to wonder why the store would only stock baby products in three colours. There really wasn't much room for creativity here. Staring at the selection of baby clothes and products before her, she wondered whether John was thinking the same as she. But it quickly became clear that his mind was on a slightly different track.

"Remind me again why we had to come all the way into the city just to buy baby supplies", he said pointedly to his mother.

Sarah replaced the rattle she was examining and gave her son a chiding look.

"Because Silberman's book is a big hit in Arrowhead city and it has my face splattered all over it, that's why", she replied.

"Oh yeah", he mumbled, returning his attention to the different sized bib collection.

"You can't shoot a gun in Arrowhead without hitting someone who knows her face", Cameron added distractedly.

"Well, look at you, little miss comedian", John teased.

Cameron flashed him a mischievous smile, happy that she'd succeeded in tickling his humour. Jokes and wisecracking were traits she had decided to work on developing since reconciling with John. By her calculations, he needed more levity in his life right now. Sarah was hardly known for her sense of humour and Derek was all but invisible most days, leaving only a stoic and occasionally quirky cyborg as John's only source of amusement.

Looking across the aisle, she examined his features as he rifled through several brands of pacifiers. He was strangely detached with no real emotion in his face, the faint Y-shaped scar on his left side neither creased nor stretched. This was his habit most days since the sudden "baby boom", as he called it. Cameron knew it must be difficult for him to come to terms with the idea that, in just a few days, he would become a father. The child's accelerated growth factor was not a welcome change.

Whilst watching him she noticed his brow creasing in that unmistakable manner that told her he was deep in thought about something. Cameron patiently waited for him to speak, predicting a 62% probability that he would seek her attention and not his mother's. When he looked up from the baby clothes and fixed her with a determined look, Cameron knew her calculations were correct.

"You know, if we're going to be buying stuff for this baby we might as well know what it's going to be, huh?" he reasoned.

His expression was perfectly innocent. Cameron could barely detect the mischievous intent behind his eyes. _He's getting better_, she noticed. John had tried many times to get an answer out of her, knowing every time that his attempts were futile, but this was the only instance where she felt compelled to inform him of the baby's gender. Instead, she gave him a knowing smile, making it perfectly clear that she was wise to his little games.

"Okay, fine, don't tell me then. I'll just buy white stuff and play it safe", John sighed, picking up a pair of white baby socks.

For reasons she couldn't quite understand, Cameron felt her walls crumble at the sight of his disappointment. John turned the socks over and examined the blue helicopters stitched onto the sides, a faint smile on his lips as he recalled his helicopter riding days. Seeing the blue stitching, Cameron reached over and plucked the socks from his hands and placed it back on the shelf. Before John could question her interception, she picked up another pair and put them in John's hands.

Looking down at the pink clothing, John's brain turned to cotton wool. Cameron simply smiled at him, however, letting him figure it out by himself. While she waited for him to say something, her sensors detected an unusual tremor inside her stomach region. Cameron's face became ashen as she stopped to analyse the anomaly, comparing it to previous tremors and finding something irregular. Before she could ascertain its origin, however, a second tremor ripped through her body like lightning.

Automatically, she clutched her stomach and wilted a little. John's heart skipped a beat as she gripped the shelf to hold herself up, a look of utter confusion on her face. The blip-screen that had been measuring the baby's heartbeat flew off the scale and Cameron's entire HUD was filled with flashing red colours. Unable to maintain her balance, Cameron fell to the floor with a soft thud and let out an involuntary gasp as she felt her waste extraction unit rupture all over the shop floor.

It took her a moment to make sense of the data whilst John and Sarah rushed to her side, repeatedly asking questions she didn't immediately possess the answer to. Like the pieces of a puzzle it all clicked into place and Cameron knew what was happening: the baby was coming. But it was earlier than she had previously predicted, and the trauma of birth was not something she expected to have to deal with in the current circumstances. Detecting the anxiety of those around her, Cameron realised she needed to put them at ease.

"Cameron! Cameron! Are you okay? Talk to me! Is the baby okay? Cameron?" John vexed frantically.

"John", Sarah interrupted before Cameron could speak, directing his attention to the puddle on the floor. "Her waters broke", she explained, idly wondering how a machine would even be capable it in the first place.

John looked from the puddle to Cameron and back again with a mixture of raw panic and disbelief, but he quickly mastered himself for what needed to be done. "Okay... Okay, we need to get you out of here. We need to get you home..." he thought aloud.

"And just hope she can hold it all the way back to Arrowhead? C'mon, John", Sarah chided.

"Then what the hell do you suggest we do?! Take her to the hospital?! I'm sure they deal with pregnant cyborgs all the time, huh?" John snapped back.

"Well if you've got any better ideas-", Sarah barked.

"Redbird", Cameron finally spoke, forcing an end to their bickering.

"What?" they both asked.

"Redbird Lodge. Take me to Sophie. It's the closest place. She'll know what to do", she clarified.

John and Sarah looked at each other and both knew what the other was thinking: no way were they going to try and birth this child anywhere within a mile of Jason and his witty repertoire. Like a premonition of sorts, John pictured Sophie removing the baby from Cameron...

"It's a boy!" she'd cry.

Smiles and squeals of delight would pour out of John and his mother whilst the latter got the first turn at holding the newborn.

Jason leans in; "Urgh! He looks just like his dad, the poor spud. You slapped him yet?" he'd ask Sophie.

She'd shake her head.

Jason would then say; "No worries. I'll do it", before slapping John across the room...

"Cameron... I don't think that's such a good-", John began, but was silenced by a sudden rushing feeling around his ears and the almost simultaneous explosion of shredded baby clothing overhead. A nanosecond later the noise caught up to him and John instinctively dived for the ground, covering Cameron with his body as a hail of bullets tore through the aisle. A second later, John felt himself spin around as Cameron forced him onto the floor and draped across him instead, her stomach pressing against his navel as she shielded him from harm.

It was proof like no other that when it all hit the fan, he would always be her choice. Nothing else mattered to her like he did. John loved her for that but he also hated her a little for it. To his right, Sarah drew a Glock from her belt and fired three shots in the general direction of the attacker. This seemed to have caught the gunman's attention, for the barrage stopped almost immediately. It was a small hope that Sarah's wild shots had, by some miracle, hit the attacker in question; but none of them were willing to make that assumption.

"Move!" Sarah ordered, grabbing Cameron by the arm and heaving her off of John.

They crawled down the aisle as quickly as they could, ever wary of their exposed position. Upon reaching the end, Sarah held out a hand for them to stop before poking her head briefly out from behind a stack of bottles. The checkouts were half-empty with the remaining staff in varying stages of abandonment. Customers screamed and ran as fast as they could to escape the mayhem. But Sarah could see no sign of their attacker amongst the crowd.

Before she could make a decision, however, movement in the corner of her eye narrowed their options to just one.

"Run!" she cried as the gunman stepped into the aisle from the other end. John scurried out of his sight and ran hunched down towards the entrance, Cameron close behind him. For the first time, Sarah got a good look at who she had no doubt was the assassin they were warned of. He, for the assassin was unmistakably a man, was dressed in dark attire with a black overcoat and a hood to shield his face. In each hand he carried an Uzi 9mm and pointed both at Sarah.

Before he could squeeze the triggers, however, Sarah raised her weapon and fired five times at the man. To her amazement the assassin ducked and side-stepped each bullet without breaking his stride, becoming a dark blur for a fraction of a second each time. Sarah had no time to make sense of what she had just witnessed, for the assassin sprayed the aisle with another burst of gunfire, forcing her to dive out of the line of fire and bolt for the door.

The assassin followed her with a wave of bullets and Sarah propelled herself through the glass doors, coming to a painful landing on the hard tarmac outside. Distantly, she could hear John screaming her name and Cameron yelling at him to leave her behind. But she knew he would never do that, despite his training. Ignoring the shards of glass as they imbedded themselves into her palms, Sarah pushed herself up from the ground and put one leg in front of the other before bursting into an agonising sprint for the car where John awaited.

"Mom! Watch out!" he yelled.

Sarah spun around in time to see the man crashing his way through the stuck doors and immediately locating them. Sarah dived into the back seat and closed the door a mere second before another burst of gunfire ripped through the metal. John snapped the car into drive and put his foot down, hurtling them forward and towards the exit as the vehicle took even more fire. Several cars swerved and honked their horns as they screeched onto the main road and roared away from the scene.

"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" John gasped as he tried to catch his breath. He felt like his heart was about to explode.

Cameron reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, reminding him to stay grounded and not to let himself be consumed by the adrenaline of the situation. With several deep breaths, John got a hold of himself and focused his attention to the immediate.

"Mom, are you alright?" he checked.

Sarah was already in the process of unbuckling the first aid kit under the seat and extracting the bandages, however.

"I'm okay, it's just my hands. I'll be fine", she answered, gripping one end of the bandage in her teeth as she painfully applied them to her injuries. Sarah growled as her hands stung from the glass still digging into her palms. She was effectively pressing them deeper by bandaging them, but she would have time to worry about it later.

"Jesus Christ! Who the fuck was that?!" John asked.

"Who do you think?" Sarah replied through gritted teeth.

The faceless assassin they had been on the lookout for... but this made little sense to John. _Why the hell would he wait all this time just to make a sloppy attack in a store? _John wondered. Unless...

"That wasn't the person I saw back home", Cameron revealed.

John and Sarah both looked at Cameron with the same clueless expression as she explained; "I took a brief scan of his features and compared them to the partial records I have of the other suspect. They're not a match."

"How can you be sure?" Sarah questioned.

"My calculations are very acute", was all Cameron said.

Taking her word for it, John ran through their options: retreating to Arrowhead was out of the question for many reasons, mostly due in to the fact that their pursuer knew its location and partially because of the mess coming out of Cameron still. Despite his misgivings, her earlier suggestion seemed most prudent given the current circumstances. Even he had to admit that having a psychotic cyborg nearby who might not kill him was far better than being anywhere near a psychotic cyborg who certainly would kill him.

His mother was oblivious, but both he and Cameron knew exactly what they were facing, for they had both seen it before: an Infiltrator Series 950. Everything from the way the assassin held his weapons to how he moved when fired at, speed and agility that no man or machine could pull off. John had seen this many times during his confrontations with Jason in the past. For all the pain he once caused John, the cyborg had certainly taught him a lot about his species.

As they hurtled down the highway, John glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that barely a minute had passed since they fled the parking lot. Cameron had her head tipped to one side, a vacant look on her face as she appeared to be listening to something he couldn't detect. John opened his mouth to enquire, but before he could do so the entire vehicle bucked. For a brief moment, John assumed someone had smashed into their rear. It was never so simple, however.

John looked over his shoulder in time to see a dark figure silhouetted against the blazing sun on the back windshield. The shadow drew its fist back and drove it straight through the glass, showering them in shattered fragments whilst he grabbed hold of Sarah around the neck. She gave out a strangled cry of surprise as the cyborg attempted to drag her out through the hole he'd made, but Cameron quickly grabbed the shotgun they kept under the seat for occasions such as this and fired into the assassin's face.

Sarah crumpled to the seat screaming in agony as the man gave out an equally suffering cry and fell from the back of the car. In the rear view mirror, John could see the I-950 rolling across the tarmac, causing several cars to swerve and crash into each other in an effort to avoid hitting him. John put his foot down and didn't relent until the Infiltrator was little more than a speck in the distance. On the back seat, Sarah lay bleeding from the ears, cursing Cameron for being so careless.

"He would have killed you", she reasoned.

"What?!" Sarah shouted, unable to hear Cameron's words through the ringing in her ears.

"HE WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU", Cameron repeated.

"I don't think she can hear you", John told her.

Deciding that arguing with a deaf woman was futile, Cameron sat back in her seat and examined the shotgun, checking its current capacity and loading a few extra shells for good measure. John watched her perform what amounted to a normal act in their life, but was confounded by the fact that she had time to worry about reloading a gun.

"Are you okay? Is everything... Is the baby okay?" John asked.

Cameron placed the shotgun on her lap and gave him a small reassuring smile; "The baby is coming. We need to get to Redbird."

"Yeah okay, but like five minutes ago you were ready to pop right then and there. What's up now?" he pointed out.

"I've dealt with the initial shock. All systems have recalibrated to compensate. I just need somewhere safe to see it through", she explained.

_Oh, well excuse me_, John thought in marvel of her coping mechanisms.

"Mom, are you alright?" he ventured.

No answer.

Cameron glanced over her shoulder to see Sarah stuffing her ears with tissues to soak up the blood and after receiving a scolding glare, turned her attention back to the road. "She's functional", Cameron informed him.

"So Redbird... Great, then what? What are we supposed to do then?" John asked.

"I give birth. We hold out until I'm recharged. Then I find and terminate the cyborg", she explained.

"And get yourself captured like last time? No way. You're staying where I can see you. Besides, the baby will need you", he argued.

"Why?" she challenged.

John looked at her incredulously.

"What do you mean 'why'?!" he exclaimed.

Cameron's expression turned blank and she fixed her gaze on the road ahead. John waited for her to reply, but after a few moments it became clear that she had nothing more to say. Infuriated, he concentrated on driving in an attempt to distract himself from his frustration.

"One of you give me your phone", Sarah suddenly asked.

Without taking her eyes off the road or even making any kind of change in stance, Cameron removed her cell phone from her pocket and held it over her shoulder. Sarah snatched it out of her hand and tapped into Cameron's phonebook, finding Derek's number and pressing the dial button. While she waited for Derek to answer, Sarah, her ears still throbbing and providing only partial hearing, felt around the car floor space for her Glock.

*Hello?*

"June twenty-nine", she said.

*Two thousand ten. What's going on? I've been calling for the past ten minutes. Why weren't you answering?*

"We were attacked. We think it was the same guy who blew up our Jeep at the house", Sarah explained.

"Structurally incompatible", Cameron interjected.

"Fine! We think he's working with the guy who blew up Tin-man!" Sarah snapped.

*Is everyone okay? Is John okay?*

"John's fine. I've been better", she replied.

*Where are you now?*

"We're on our way to Jason's apartment."

*You are? Sarah, he's not there.*

"How do you know?" she asked suspiciously.

*Because... he's here with me. Yeah, can it you- HEY!*

There was a garbled kafuffle on Derek's end before his voice was replaced with Jason's.

*I assume there's a good reason as to why you would choose my apartment over a hundred alternative safe-houses?*

"Yours is the only one that has a qualified tech medic, remember?" Sarah snarled.

Jason fell silent for a few seconds. Sarah could barely hear Derek's protests in the background and the low rumble of a motor vehicle: they were driving, likely returning from Derek's trip to Nevada, though what Jason was doing there was beyond Sarah. She had send Derek to search the site of the Burrower drones for any signs of recent activity. He was due to call in by this time, but the last thing she'd expected was for Jason to get involved.

*You're in luck. Sophie told me she'd be spending her day at the pool. So unless she lied to me and has something more stimulating in mind, you'll find her waiting for you. I'll give her a call and make sure she's ready. Just tell Cameron to cross her legs until you get there.*

Sarah was surprised he'd caught her gist, but then again he was always annoyingly observant. Derek's voice filled the other end once more, assuring her that they would meet them at the apartment. Sarah hung up and slumped back against the seat, idly wishing that her hearing would stay gone for just a little while longer. Ignorance in this case was certainly bliss.

"How long do you think it'll take them to meet us?" John asked.

Sarah sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying the cool air rushing through the back windshield.

"A few hours at the most", she replied.

John couldn't help but taste a bittersweet in that notion. Having Derek close by was a comforting thought, but knowing that Jason would also pay audience was just about the last thing he needed this day. His concerns were redirected upon hearing a tiny gasp to his right, however, as Cameron placed a hand on her stomach and wilted a little.

"How long?" he asked quietly.

Cameron didn't answer, instead choosing to compose herself and continue watching the traffic, counting red cars and blue trucks and calculating the variance in which they appeared. She liked mathematics; it was a peace pipe for her synthetic mind, allowing her to satisfy her need for daily amusement. But even her second favourite hobby could do little to hide the elephant in the car.

The baby was coming and there was no way to delay it this time. Cameron was becoming a mother whether she wanted to or not.

-----000-----

REDBIRD LODGE – APARTMENT 7c – LOS ANGELES

7.01PM

Sophie loved the sun.

In the world she came from the sun was forever blocked by clouds of ash and dust. In the rare occasions when the clouds would break enough to allow the sun to touch the earth its penetrating light brought little warmth. Even so, Sophie could still remember looking up in awe at it for the first time. The sun of this world was not quite as beautiful as the one she knew, for there were no black clouds to cast a majestic contrast to its glory. This sun was bold and blinding; ignorant of the privileges it would soon be denied.

Sophie considered this a minor slight, however, for it was still a wonder to behold and she could actually feel the raw heat and energy of the gargantuan mass. She, and those like her, retreated to this time with the intention of fighting for a better future: a future where the sun would not have a need to hide behind the clouds. But with her brothers and sisters dead, the only course left to her now was to enjoy the world in every instance. There was little she could do to aid Jason and the Connor's quest for victory... or so she believed.

She laid upon a sun bed, wearing little more than a two-piece and a pair of sunglasses as she quietly soaked up the sun's energy, passively keeping check on her cellular activity to meter its affects. Sophie had already allowed her skin to gain a small tint of bronze, but she was averse to letting herself cook. Though he had a lot on his plate right now, Sophie was sure Jason had noticed the subtle difference.

Curling her freshly painted toes, she allowed herself a mischievous smile as her mind drifted to Jason's little trip with Derek and the delightful barrage of nerve-testing he was sure to be inflicting upon the human. Jason's humour was one of just a few qualities he had yet to let go of, and for this she was grateful. If it weren't for his daily doses of witty cynicism, Jason would no doubt have succumbed to the grave depression of what was happening to him. Despite her confidence that it would be resolved one day, she had to sigh at the odds.

Suddenly, the skin around her navel cooled to a moderate temperature, suggesting a block between herself and the sun. She didn't need to open her eyes to know that it was caused by a shadow, for her readings suggested as much. _Perhaps a resident has noticed me and wishes to purchase my attention_, she mused. It wouldn't be the first time since they moved in that she had to fend off plucky males and their wasteful attempts at capturing her approval.

The pheromones in the air did not belong to a male, however, indicating that it was a woman standing over her. Intrigued, Sophie licked her lips to get a brief taste of the air, revealing a mixture of sweat and blood in the vicinity. The blood was familiar and, after cross-checking it with her CPU, Sophie matched it to the last woman on the earth she wanted to find looming over her.

"I suppose I'm not allowed a little 'me time', huh?" she sighed, stroking her thighs to clear the thin layer of perspiration on them.

"You were told we were coming", Sarah replied.

"Yes, Jason forewarned me of your interruption. He never mentioned you'd smell so bad. What is that; baby powder?" Sophie commented, detecting a dozen different infant product odours on Sarah's person.

"Long story. Are you going to help us or should we just let this baby birth itself in the car?" Sarah snapped.

Sophie had always felt a curious physical attraction to Sarah, but her bitter attitude towards those she was supposed to deem as allies was quite the turn off. She had to wonder how someone with that many options could keep herself chaste all these years. _Maybe she eats the fathers_, Sophie mused.

"Just know I'm doing this for the baby's future, not yours", Sophie replied, pulling her sunglasses down her nose.

"Whatever works. I'll get them over here. You open up and be ready for us", Sarah sighed, the fatigue obvious on her tired features.

Sarah promptly turned on her heel and made her way across the pool side towards the chain-link gate. Feeling like her evening had just been snatched away from her like a child losing its favourite cuddly toy; Sophie sat up and slid her legs over the edge of the bed. With one last sigh she stood up and straightened herself before tip-tapping across the stone floor, the sun baked slabs of concrete searing her feet. She did not mind, however, and continued towards her apartment on the ground floor.

Reaching beneath her left cup, she retrieved the door key and unlocked the apartment, stepping inside and leaving the door open for the Connors to follow. The room was markedly hotter than the outdoors, for she had kept all the windows sealed as a precautionary measure. Looking around, she realised that the small lounge would be unsuitable for what was required, the en-suite kitchen faring no better. Without little choice available, Sophie unlocked the pantry door leading down to the basement.

Distantly, she could hear John's voice as he soothed the cyborg with promises of nearing their destination. At first, Sophie did not give any more thought to the boy, but upon catching sight of herself in the mirror she realised that in a few seconds he would likely be giving more than a little thought towards her. Sophie quickly snatched her silk dressing gown from the side of the couch and slipped into it, tying the waist just seconds before he appeared in the doorway, his arm around a bemused looking Cameron.

Upon first glance, the boy looked more than a little worse for wear. Cameron, on the other hand, couldn't look any more relaxed about the situation. Her hair was a bit of a mess and she was sweating more than she should, but all in all she still looked like her usual unconcerned self. John awkwardly helped her into the room while Sophie was sure the cyborg didn't actually require his aid, but was allowing him to assist her so that he could feel useful. Sophie couldn't help but find this behaviour somewhat adorable.

"Take her downstairs", Sophie instructed, gesturing towards the pantry.

"Thank you", John croaked as he shuffled past with Cameron in tow, Sarah bringing up the rear with a bag no doubt filled with guns.

Sophie spared the bag a moment's contemplation before slipping past Sarah and locking the front door. She then followed them down into the basement, closing the other door behind them. John had already lowered Cameron onto the bed and Sarah was scanning her surroundings suspiciously, her grip on the bag tightening a little. Her eyes settled on the chrome casket sat upon the far desk, intrigued by the smoke rolling off it.

"That right there..." Sophie spoke, tearing Sarah's attention away from the casket; "...none of your business."

Taking the hint, and not really caring much anyway, Sarah dumped her bag on the end of the bed and stood over John as he tended to Cameron, brushing her hair out of her face and making sure she was perfectly comfortable. _She's a machine, for Skynet's sake; she'd feel just as comfortable sitting on the ceiling_, Sophie thought incredulously. Cameron suddenly clutched her stomach and let out a sharp breath, her eyes fixing on Sophie expectantly.

"The contractions are getting more frequent?" she asked.

Cameron nodded, further increasing John's anxiety. Sophie let out a sigh and stepped into the bathroom to grab some towels and a medical kit from under the sink. Vaguely, she wondered whether or not she should swap the sheets on the bed, but decided it would only disrupt Cameron further. With the med kit in one hand and two cotton towels in the other, Sophie returned to the bedroom and settled herself next to Cameron, popping the clips on the kit box and setting it aside for the time being.

"Oooooookay... so I guess mamma's finally gonna pop", she commented whilst prodding Cameron's stomach in key places.

"Is it going to... I mean... will it be a normal-", John tried to ask.

"Birth?" Sophie interjected; "I highly doubt it. Cameron wasn't designed to even gestate a living organism, let alone squeeze it out afterwards. No, this is going to require a little creative surgery", she explained.

John's face dropped as Sophie picked up a scalpel from the med kit and examined it carefully.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked with a lump in his throat.

Sophie regarded the boy with genuine sympathy. In truth, there wasn't an awful lot he could do to ease the process. Sophie was going to have to cut Cameron open to get this baby out in one piece and distractions would only endanger the outcome. It was best for him to simply stay back but Sophie couldn't fathom a way to tell him this without making him feel even more useless.

"Hold her hand", Sarah suddenly suggested.

Everyone turned to look at her as she unzipped her bag and withdrew a Glock, purposely avoiding eye contact with any of them. John stared at his mother with an expression of both confusion and understanding, an antithesis that could only exist where she was concerned. Idly, he wondered if her suggestion was a small attempt to reclaim a fraction of the life she wish she'd had. That maybe seeing him hold Cameron's hand while she gives birth would grant his mother some closure for never having held his father's when he was born.

Tearing his eyes away from his mother, John slid his hand into Cameron's, allowing their fingers to entwine. She looked up at him with child-like wonder as he cupped their hands in his other and kissed her knuckles. She thought it unnecessary, for she was under little stress save concern for his wellbeing. The Infiltrator was still out there and would find them eventually. They always do.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to be trapped down here like this? What if we're found?" Sarah asked.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Sophie replied, casting her a disparaging look. "In all the time we've spent here there's never been anyone kicking down our door. So believe me; if this guy turns up with a bazooka and a bad attitude, I'll be the first to cry checkmate."

Sarah rolled her eyes and pulled a shotgun out of the bag, along with a box of shells which she began loading into it.

"At least tell me there's a way out of this room besides the bottleneck up there."

Placing the scalpel on one of the towels, Sophie pointed at a door to their left.

"That's the cupboard. It has an old fire escape at the back that was sealed before we moved in. Jason loosened it a little though, just in case. If anything happens, that's how we get out", she answered.

Satisfied for the time being, Sarah tucked the Glock under her belt and took up sentry duty by the stairs. Glancing back at Cameron she felt the months of baggage finally toppling the extent of her tolerance. "God damn it, John! Why couldn't you be careful with her?!" she finally exploded. John's jaw dropped at her sudden attack. Besides her initial surprise, to put it mildly, when she first learned of the pregnancy Sarah had never given him the verbal beating he'd been expecting.

"C'mon, Mom! How was I supposed to know she'd get pregnant? Seriously, how many laws of physics can you break before even considering that she might get pregnant?" he argued.

"How many knocks to the head does it take to even consider sleeping with the thing in the first place?!" she countered.

"Oh, like you never checked out Uncle Bob's abs when you were pulling bullets outta him!" John spat back, feeling a little stung by her referring to Cameron as a _thing_. Sarah then flew into a rant to end all rants while John continued to impressively hold his own, having learned from the best. Cameron simply watched impassively while they argued, allowing Sophie to take a blood sample from the baby.

"Are they always like this?" she sighed, dabbing a tissue on the needle hole.

"It is a habitual regularity with them. They usually build up to it after periods of silence and internalising. They don't always behave like children", Cameron explained with a quirk of her lips. Sophie smirked in earnest and left to sit at the desk, placing a sample of the blood on a slide and examining it under the microscope. According to her readings, everything was within normal parameters; or as normal as a human/cyborg hybrid could be. The nanites were perfectly bonded to the baby's blood cells with no signs of degradation.

"...I went through _seven hours_ of labour for you! And yet here she is, not a care in the world! How is that in any way fair?!" Sarah screamed, making John growl in frustration and walk to the other side of the room. Happy with the results of the test, Sophie swivelled her chair around to observe the continuing tirade of pointless bickering for her amusement. So engrossed was she that Sophie did not notice as Cameron quivered and sat forward in bed, both hands cradling her stomach.

"It's coming", she announced, drowned by John and Sarah's shouting. Sophie snapped to attention, having heard her with help from her enhanced hearing. John and Sarah were oblivious, however, and their argument only escalated. Sophie opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything, Cameron reached for the bedside lamp and hurled it at the nearest wall where it shattered with a deafening crash. They instantly fell silent, both looking at Cameron with startled bemusement.

"It's coming", she repeated.

John blinked as his brain struggled to catch up before quickly returning to his spot on the bed and stroking her head, looking to Sophie for guidance. Sarah sighed and slumped against the wall, idly remembering to pick up her shotgun and stand guard again. Sophie's attention was fixed elsewhere; however, as she stared at the remains of what was once her rose-coloured lamp.

"I really liked that lamp", she sulked.

-----000-----

20 MILES OUT OF MOJAVE

7.54PM

"Put your foot down, Jesus!" Derek snapped, wishing he could sprout a rocket pack out of his back and fly into the city.

"If I put my foot down any harder it will go right through the floor, will that help?" Jason replied, shaking his head at Derek's incessant stupidity. "And by the way, Jesus Christ is a textbook example of what happens when a deranged cyborg taps the wrong coordinates into the time machine."

"Will you just- wait... what?" Derek stumbled.

Jason just smirked and kept his eyes on the road, however. Derek sighed and took a deep breath, every inch of him itching to reach them in time. They were alone, vulnerable, with a bed bound cyborg and a shotgun as their only defence. He doubted that Sophie would be of any help should the assassin come calling either. And here he was, stuck in the desert with a smart aleck. He'd never felt so useless.

"You look tense there, Reesey boy. Want a skittle?" Jason quipped, holding a bag of sweaty candy under his nose. Derek snatched the bag and threw it out the window, however. "Yeah, probably for the best; you'll break a tooth on one of them", Jason quipped, reaching into the glove box and retrieving a packet of chips. "Lays?" he offered.

"What the fu-?! Where the hell are you getting this from?!" Derek exploded. "Is this all you do when I'm not around?! Think of new ways to drive me up the wall?! What am I, your... your jester?!"

"I prefer to think of you as my witless foil, actually", Jason replied.

"Well how about you direct that inventive mind towards a faster way of getting us to John?" Derek suggested.

"No problem, Batman. I'll just press this button here and watch as our humble Chrysler transforms into a drag racer", Jason joked, pressing a button at random, only for the lighter tool to pop out of its socket and land on Derek's crotch.

"Argh! Shit! Son a bitch! Argh!" he screamed as it burned into his lap before he quickly threw it onto the back seat.

"Huh, I knew there was a reason for that thing", Jason commented as Derek glared at him with almost murderous rage.

"Just get us there in time or I swear to God I'll find some way to pull you apart, piece by piece", he threatened.

"Oh don't worry. I'm sure the squirt will somehow survive, even if everyone else dies. Remember how many times I tried to kill him?" Jason replied.

Derek couldn't help but smirk as he recalled those simpler times. "Yeah, you did a piss poor job as I recall", he reminded him.

"Right, so what chance does your squeeze have then? Not a lot, I imagine", Jason sniped.

"You don't talk about her", Derek replied quietly, the menace in his voice all too apparent.

Having grown bored with tormenting the human, Jason decided to comply for the time being and an uncomfortable silence hung over them as they both set their minds on whatever they might find when they reach the apartment. Jason imagined the door kicked in and a bloodied Sarah lying motionless at the bottom of the stairs, a single well-placed gunshot between her eyes. In the secret passage leading to the fire exit he'd find a severed arm belonging to John, though why this would be the case he wasn't sure. Jason chuckled regardless.

Derek on the other hand imagined the scene of a massacre, not having any knowledge of the apartment layout or exit strategies. Sarah sat slumped against a door with a grievous chest wound, as if a machine had punched clean through her ribcage. Sophie was not far away, her neck contorted in an unnatural angle and her eyes devoid of life. On the bed sat Cameron, fresh from giving birth but half her face blown off by heavy gunfire. And beside the bed lay John, beaten and bloody, a motionless infant still clutched in his arms...

As both were entranced by their respective predictions, neither noticed as flames started to flicker in the back seat. They still had a lot of ground to cover before being close to enough to stop what was coming and neither was willing to see it end in the enemy's favour. Jason did not mind if certain casualties were to incur, but if he lost Sophie he wouldn't know what to do. Derek couldn't lose John but neither could he lose Sarah. He would even find it difficult to come to terms with losing Cameron, should such a thing ever happen.

Despite their daily display of apathy both men had more to lose than they would care to admit.

"Can you smell something burning?" Jason asked.

Then again, there were some things that Derek wouldn't mind seeing the back of.

-----000-----

5 MILES FROM REDBIRD LODGE – LOS ANGELES

8.18PM

Jesse never liked smokers. The entire act of placing a paper filled with dried plants into your mouth, lighting it and taking a long drag of what was essentially cancer in smoke form disgusted her. However, she could not deny that at times like these it was a rather effective relaxant. Flicking the end to shed some loose embers, Jesse felt her day worsening as the familiar black truck pulled up beside her and its driver emerged.

"You got my message", he remarked.

"I got it. Seems like you had no luck, after all. And here you were telling me how incompetent I am. Go figure", she scolded.

Ethan smirked at her sudden bravado, noticing the bottle of scotch clutched tightly in her free hand while she continued to suck on the cigarette. "But unlike you, my 'failure' has a purpose", he countered.

"And what's that, love?" she slurred.

"They're cornered. Which gives you the perfect opportunity to finish the job", he explained.

"Oh... great... I get the honour of murdering a child before it's even born. Here's an idea: why don't you do it?" she challenged.

His tolerance for her insolence starting to wane, Ethan tapped the security button for his truck, popping the trunk.

"Take what's inside this truck and finish what you and the rest of your short-sighted faction started", he ordered.

Jesse fixed him with a look of pure contempt for striking such a low blow. Reluctantly, she snatched the keys from him and staggered over to the truck, taking another swig from the bottle before hurling it down the alley. "The address is in the glove box", he informed her as the truck roared to life. Jesse wasted no time in speeding away from her slaver, leaving him to contemplate the chances of her actually succeeding.

Not that she had any other option.

-----000-----

REDBIRD LODGE – APARTMENT 7c – LOS ANGELES

8.30PM

It wasn't how he imagined it. But then again, John had never imagined himself becoming a father in the first place, least of all under such bizarre circumstances. For some reason he'd pictured Cameron just calmly pushing the baby out of her body, unaffected by the pain and perfectly adjusted to the experience. Everyone was gathered to share his joy at being able to hold his child for the first time. It was happy, serene; just the way he wished his life could be. But of course, this was never meant to be the case for John Connor.

A blood-curdling scream pierced the tense silence that had blanketed the bedroom ever since Sophie began the first incision. It cut them all deeper than any knife ever could, but unlike the cries of agony and despair John was accustomed to hearing, this was something different entirely. It was a child's first experience of the world and he could not blame it for screaming, knowing the horrors it had been born into. The world was truly a terrifying place for one not adapted to its harsh cruelty, and for an infant this was doubly true.

The first thing the child ever saw with its unnaturally advanced oculus was the dark shimmer of a blade, followed by a blinding light that brought only pain and unwanted revelation. It would rather have remained within the soft confines of its temple than have the walls of reality bleed into its blissful solitude. The child felt like it was standing upon a precipice with the entire world above and below. One wrong step could send it hurtling into the abyss, doomed to fall forever.

Soft, steely fingers clutched its body and the world pulled it in against its will. The baby's screams intensified as the ribbon connecting itself from its mother was severed, leaving it adrift in this strange new dimension. Voices spoke but the child did not understand them, and as the world started to clear into some measure of coherence, the baby felt a familiar presence.

"It's a girl", Sophie announced, cradling the infant in her arms while it continued to protest.

John couldn't feel anything at the sight of his baby daughter. His entire body was numb save only for a slight tingling in his fingers and the desperate pounding of his heart. It took him a moment to remember to breathe, causing him to gasp and choke. Sophie smiled at his reaction and slowly held the baby out for him to take. Hesitantly, he reached out and felt her soft skin for the first time and as he carefully took her in his arms, everything finally made sense. This was what he was fighting for. This was what he was saving.

After a few moments the baby stopped crying and fell into a comfortable silence, replacing the screaming with gentle cooing as she looked up at her father. She did not know him but she felt safe with him; protected. John smiled down at his little creation in awe as he tickled her chin, only for the child to grab his finger with surprising strength and put it straight into her mouth. He chuckled and felt his eyes sting a little as they welled up with tears.

Sarah had never experienced such a cacophony of riddled emotions. For the longest time she had believed this child to be nothing but a bad dream, something best forgotten and put aside. She had never considered that it could ever bring any good to the world, but as she watched her son holding the passive infant in his arms, a part of her that once knew what it was like to stand in his shoes cracked through the iron cage around her heart. The baby seemed so human. No, it _was_ human. And that was all the difference in the world.

Not knowing what to do with herself, Sarah placed the shotgun on a nearby chair and snatched up some towels and the jug of water Sophie had prepared. Realising her intent, John carefully placed the baby on a thick towel laid out on the desk and held his finger up for her to suckle on while Sarah tenderly washed the infant. She kicked her legs, knocking Sarah's arm aside with ease, causing her to gasp in disbelief. The baby quivered as Sarah applied the washcloth and started to grizzle once more, prompting John to take the cloth from her.

She did not protest at his attention and allowed him to gently wipe the grime of birth from her tiny little body while Sarah watched with barely contained nostalgic glee. While they fussed over the baby, Sophie sat on the bed and threaded a needle for Cameron before passing it to her so that she could stitch up her stomach. Cameron pressed the skin together and began sewing the wound together again, seemingly unaffected by the bizarre turn of events.

"How're you doing in there?" Sophie asked whilst packing up the first aid kit.

"I am returning to optimal functionality but it will take time before I'm one-hundred percent again", she replied, her attention fixed on her work. Sophie regarded her disinterest with a knowing sigh, for if she were to bet her entire ill-gotten fortune on Cameron being a doting mother she would be living as a pauper. However, she had expected at least some curiosity from the machine. Sophie watched the cyborg as she meticulously wove her skin back together, making sure that it would heal in the shortest possible time.

Several minutes passed them by as Sarah and John bathed the child and Cameron tended to her souvenir. All the while Sophie just sat and observed their behaviour; from John and Sarah's jubilation to Cameron's apathy. Even after all this time humans still found ways to surprise and fascinate her. Skynet had created the I-950s to be superior to humans in every way imaginable, but for all their strengths they still lacked or found it hard to grasp the single most vital concept: their humanity.

Emotions were there but did not carry the same nuances of meaning. Hate was not hate, but simply determination to right a wrong. Sorrow was not sorrow, but merely the self-derision of one's failures. And love was not entirely love, but a nostalgic sense of unity and belonging. Watching the humans' joy over the newborn, Sophie knew she could never truly understand what it meant to feel a life in her arms. Looking from them to Cameron, Sophie realised that she was trapped between the two: the ultimate fate of a true cyborg.

And yet somehow she knew that the child would not be challenged by this impediment. It was something else entirely.

Cameron snipped the suture, her flesh sewed back together once again. Snapping out of her self-pity, Sophie moved aside as John carried the baby over to the bed and sat down beside Cameron, whose eyes were fixed on him and not the child. She continued to stare expressionlessly at him as he shuffled closer and all but placed the baby on her lap.

"Cameron, look what we made", John said with barely contained glee.

Cameron glanced down at the dosing child with that same detached expression, her head twitching a little as if a part of her was in a state of disbelief. John's smile faded a little at her nonchalance but he chose not to read too much into her apparent disinterest.

"You wanna hold her?" he asked hopefully.

Behind him Sarah uncrossed her arms and made to move towards the bed but stopped herself, the concern obvious in her features. Cameron did not reach out with her steely fingers, however, and simply remained as she was without any indication of changing her mind any time soon. John couldn't help but feel his heart sink at her behaviour. She'd promised to love their child; to protect and care for it, and yet here she was, without a care.

"Cameron, what's wrong?"

She didn't know how to answer for she did not know what was wrong with her. For weeks now she had been preparing for this moment, confident that, should the child survive, she would be able to bond with it in a similar manner to John. But looking upon the helpless baby in his arms she could not put any of her preparations into practice. Whatever it was she was supposed to express in this moment, she couldn't summon it. The simple and awful fact was: she genuinely felt no love for this child.

Cameron's lips parted as she calculated the best lie to deflect his concern for the time being, but before any words would leave her mouth her proximity sensors, long since dormant during the pregnancy, suddenly burst to life with an overwhelming tirade of hazard warnings. Much to the others' surprise an almighty crash erupted from upstairs, an act of violence that sent the pantry door off its hinges and crashing down the stairs where it cracked and splintered all over the floor before them.

A second later the sound of metal on wood replaced the crashing of the door as a heavy steel drum bounced down the stairs and into the room, hitting the corner of the bed and bouncing back again. Then everything went deathly silent... Everyone in the room was frozen on the spot, unable to react to the abrupt change of their circumstances. After what seemed like an eternity, one last intruder joined the remains of the door and the steel drum: a live grenade.

Between the unhinging of the door and the hurling of the drum, it was the grenade that rippled through their bodies an instinctual recognition that the beautiful moment of birth had spiralled into a horrific likelihood of death. John wasn't sure who shouted for them to move; a distant part of his mind believing it to be his mother, but his body obeyed the command without hesitation. His arms pressed close to his chest, holding the baby firmly against his heart while his legs launched them off the bed and into someone's grip.

Sophie grabbed onto his jacket and practically carried him away from the bed, half throwing John and the baby into the closet room where they landed safely against a pile of Jason's clothes and fresh towels. She followed suite, closing the door behind her and dropping to her knees with her arms over her head. John's heart stopped as an ear-splitting explosion tore through the bedroom, filling the cracks in the door with burning white light and almost blasting it off its frame. He could feel his flesh flash-boiling from the heat in the other room.

"MOM! CAMERON! NOOOOOOOO!!!" he screamed, pushing himself back to his feet and charging at the door.

With one kick it was open and it looked to him like a postcard from hell: the entire bedroom was devoured by flames, the furniture blackening and the bed itself obliterated by the force of the blast. He could not tell if Cameron was amongst what remained of the mattress or if Sarah was lying, immolated, upon the floor. The heat was unbelievably intense and it took him a moment as he raised his hand to shield his eyes, to realise that his daughter was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Horrified, John covered her face and backed away from the inferno, turning to see Sophie attacking the wall with several well-placed kicks. Smoke crept into their presence and he started to choke, unable to draw a fresh breath of air from the smog that surrounded them. With one last kick, the emergency escape burst open and Sophie was immediately bathed in moonlight. Clean air rushed inside along with a brief waft of cold wind from the outside.

Wasting no time, they rushed out into the open night and the heavy downpour that greeted them. John had never been so grateful to feel rain on his face as it cooled his sweltering body. Looking down at his daughter he was relieved to see that she was unharmed, despite her incessant screaming.

"Shhhh. Hey, it's okay now. Everything's okay now. We're safe now, I promise", he assured her, gently bobbing his arms to calm her.

"A little premature, don't you think?" Sophie interjected.

John spun around to find himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun, its owner having just emerged from the apartment, her raven black hair scorched by the fire and a look of dark intent burning within her eyes. She stepped out into the rain, forcing them further into the alley as she levelled the shotgun not to his head, but to the child in his arms. Instinctively, he turned his body to shield his baby from her aim but he knew it was futile, for her gun would rip right through him and kill his daughter regardless.

Sophie stood rigid to the side as she desperately ran through a multitude of table-turning tactics but all of them ending in both the child and John's deaths, no matter how fast she moved to protect them. The hunter had her prey perfectly cornered with no chance of escape, no opportunity to strike first. Facing such a hopeless scenario, Sophie could only set her sights upon one definite: she either wait for the inevitable and then terminate the human in a most painful fashion, or step between John and the shotgun and sacrifice herself.

Her decision made, Sophie commanded her body to increase its adrenaline levels...

-----000-----

5 MINUTES EARLIER

_Grenade. No pin. Standard delay: 5 seconds._

"MOVE!" Sarah screamed.

5........

John obeyed, kicking himself off the bed.

4........

Sophie hurled him into the closet whilst Cameron leapt up off the bed.

3........

The closet was too far away. Cameron grabbed Sarah by the collar and threw her into the open bathroom door where she landed hard against the bath tub.

2........

Cameron jumped into the room and turned to close the door, stopping for a second...

1........

...to see Sophie slam the closet door shut. Hoping that John would be safer than she, Cameron closed the door and stood with her back against it. Silence swept through the basement for the longest second in the history of Sarah's life. The world seemed to freeze all around her, and yet she could still feel her heart beating heavily against her chest and the air desperately clawing its way into her lungs. Cameron remained rooted to the spot, her hair slowly cascading down her shoulders as she stared blankly at the far wall.

The clock above the sink was missing a hand but the inner workings still carried out their duty, and a tiny click heralded the end of that never-ending moment in what Sarah truly believed would be her last seconds of existence as her senses overloaded with white noise and the bone-jarring tremor that exploded from the bedroom. Tiles burst off the wall, shattering into powdered fragments on the floor all around her. The mirror shared a similar fate as she hurled herself up and into the bath tub.

Cameron bucked a little under the force of the blast but stayed her ground, keeping the door on its hinges and the searing flames in the other room, though she knew they would soon consume the entire building and them along with it should they stay for much longer. The tremors faded as soon as they started and, confident that the door wouldn't collapse on top of her, Cameron stepped away from her charge and began scanning her surroundings for the weakest section of wall.

"We... We need to... get to John... We... Cameron!" Sarah choked, struggling to sit up in the tub.

Smoke was already pouring under the door and filling the room with a suffocating cloud. It was becoming harder and harder for Sarah to see anything more than a few inches in front of her, but Cameron could see everything; including the loose brick in the western section of the wall.

Curling her fist into a ball, Cameron drove her arm through the mortar with one precise thrust, then removed it and watched as a sizeable hole materialised from the falling bricks. Calculating an effective pattern, Cameron struck left and right of the hole, creating a larger gap before driving her foot below it to create a new doorway for the property.

The light of the outside world flooded the bathroom allowing Sarah to see through the smog and taste the promise of clean air. Not wanting to spend another second in the basement, she scrambled out of the tub and staggered across the room and all but threw herself through the hole. The sky growled with thunder as the rain intensified, bringing them both a welcome shower of much needed hydration.

Thick and heavy droplets splattered all over Cameron's body as she looked up at the sky and observed the crackle of lightning. It shot across her retina in an instant, yet she captured the moment and replayed it slower with perfect clarity. The rain was hammering down hard now, drenching her body all the way through. She didn't mind it at all, for it was only moisture. And yet she could not fathom the intensity of stimulation that each drop delivered as it struck her skin and rolled across its surface.

She could feel it. She could feel it just as Sarah felt it. Her skin crawled in discomfort from the cold and a breath escaped her lips.

Something was different... changed... altered.

She felt...

"Please. Please don't do this."

Cameron's eyes snapped open upon hearing John's voice filtered through the roaring of the rain and the inferno.

She could see him further down the alley, cradling their child with Sophie standing restively at his side; her fists clenched but not shaking. In front of John stood a woman whose face she recognised. With a quick check of her database the name she sought came to her almost instantly: Commander Jesse Flores.

The Resistance fighter was pointing a gun at her John for reasons she couldn't determine. But her being her at all suggested purpose, a mission... intent. The intensity in her eyes burned with it. Cameron took a step forward but stopped herself, realising that she would never reach them in time should she be spotted, and she most certainly would be. The alley was far too narrow and offered little cover.

Sarah also knew this, for she rooted herself to the spot, her face awash in panic as she tried and failed to think of some way to save her son without being the sealant of his fate. For once in both their lives there was nothing either of them could do, despite being so close. His life sat upon a knife edge, and he would fall one way or another.

They could only hope he would fall their way.

-----000-----

"Please. Please don't do this."

John knew it was a futile gesture but he had nothing else to lose.

"Shut up", she replied dispassionately.

The cyborg at his side tensed a little but did not move from her spot. Jesse recognised that face, the whore of Jason and his ilk. If she made so much as one wrong move Jesse knew to blast her head off and empty some extra buckshot into her implants for good measure. But her focus was set primarily on John and the screaming infant in his arms.

Screaming...

The child was afraid, terrified. It had feeling. Or was it simply a chemically mechanical response to impending danger?

_No, this isn't some tin can_, she reminded herself.

No amount of self-delusion could alter the truth that stood before her: this was a living breathing human child.

Perhaps not pure, but human nonetheless; and more importantly: innocent.

This baby, this girl, would one day grow up to be a lifesaver. She would perform medical miracles that save the lives of countless soldiers in the field, many of whom were Jesse's dearest friends. But the aftermath of the war, the carnage and self-annihilation her experiments would cause; it had to be stopped. She couldn't let the human race tear itself apart like that again. She just couldn't.

But... that was one future. One end. One in a million possible outcomes all of which could lead her down an entirely different road.

Jesse's finger tightened around the trigger as the baby's crying intensified, rising above the crashing of the rain. Even though the child was soaked, she could still see the tears falling down her little face.

_Fuck all of it!_ her conscience screamed as her grip on the trigger slackened and her aim slowly diverted to the floor.

Her decision made, Jesse let out a deep sigh and inclined her head to one side: a silent permission for him to take his daughter and leave.

John could hardly believe his change of luck but was averse to looking it in the mouth. With a grateful nod he set off, only for Sophie to grab his arm and draw his attention to the other end of the alley where Cameron and Sarah stood, a familiar black truck pulling up behind them: Derek's truck.

With one last look at his liberator, John hurtled down the alley with Sophie close behind, leaving the assassin to ponder her decision alone. She watched as they all climbed inside the vehicle and sped off without further ado, escaping the torment she had brought them. The damage was done now and her choice could not be changed, no matter the stakes. There was only one thing left to take care of before it would all be over, and she knew that in all likelihood she would not succeed.

Regardless, Jesse turned her back on the mission she swore to complete and started the long return to her apartment.

It was over.

_To be continued..._


	8. Closer

**Hope**

**Chapter 08: Closer**

HOMESTEAD

ARROWHEAD MOUNTAINS

The front door burst open as if struck by the fist of an angry God whose fury echoed in the crackling lightning and booming thunder.

Timmy, having been soundly asleep a millisecond earlier, was now on his paws and fully alert as the gaggle of disorganised humans came bursting into the room. They dispersed almost immediately, each one headed for a different destination for whatever purpose suited them. Timmy did a quick count of his servants and found them to be heavy two visitors, but he knew them from previous visits and did not stir at their presence. He could not account for the small writhing bundle in the young male's arms, however.

This was new. It smelt new. It looked and sounded new.

And overall he deemed it... aggravating.

Not willing to put up with the sporadic yammering of the humans and the screaming infant, Timmy erected his tail and strolled off.

Ignorant of the cat's disapproval, however, the humans began their customary preparation for World War Three.

Between the two of them, Jason and Derek had already heaved the weapon trunk out from the cupboard-under-the-stairs and begun unloading as many rifles and shotguns as would fit in the lounge. With one kick Jason pushed the couch onto its back and against the window, providing them with a Kevlar-layered wall should anyone come knocking with a 9mm and a bad attitude.

Jason picked up the nearest assault rifle and positioned himself, taking first watch on the property while Derek distributed side-arms to every man, woman and cyborg in the vicinity. Satisfied that everyone was armed to the teeth, himself especially; Derek hurried double-time up the stairs and into John's bedroom and pulled up a stool to sit on while he keeps watch on the premises.

Downstairs, Sarah was decidedly more concerned with attending to John's needs than the security of her house.

The rain storm that struck Los Angeles had followed them all the way up to Arrowhead and was now beating hard upon the windows. The baby girl was soaked through and though some distant corner of her mind wondered if she could even catch hypothermia, the mother in her drove Sarah to the brink of obsession as she gathered blankets and towels to dry and warm the infant.

John wouldn't let her touch the child, however, and snatched the towels from his mother's hands so that he could dry the baby himself. Sarah couldn't help but feel a little slighted by his behaviour, but she knew all too well the protective inhibitions of a parent and did not protest. _He's gotta learn some day_, she reasoned.

Leaving him to it, Sarah turned to find Cameron standing just a few centimetres behind her with a strangely vacant look on her face.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked bristly.

"Nothing", Cameron replied with her head tipped a little to one side.

"No, you're getting in the way; that's what you're doing. So move!" Sarah snapped as she impatiently pushed her way past the cyborg.

Cameron remained impassively rooted to the spot as the brief notion of flooring Sarah tickled her fancy. Brushing it aside, however, she returned her attention to the gurgling infant on the dining table, taking note of the fact that a surface they ate off on a daily basis was hardly the most hygienic place to put the baby.

John reached for a towel on the table's edge, accidentally knocking another off with his elbow. Cameron's inhuman reflexes allowed her to catch it, however, and she held the towel up for him to take.

"Put it on the side there", he muttered distractedly as the child kicked at his efforts to pin the towel around her waist.

Cameron watched as the baby stopped struggling once the towel was secure and settled for sucking her thumb instead. Relieved, John scooped her up in his arms and finally looked at Cameron properly for the first time since they arrived. She was still soaked from the rain, having made no attempt to shield herself from it or limit her exposure, which left her hair in a flat and sopping state. Though not very flattering (he knew she cared little) her rain-soaked clothes were plastered to her body, highlighting her shape in every detail.

Her breasts stood out as if asking for attention and the mound that was her womb was showing signs of rapid shrinking. John had no illusions that by tomorrow morning her belly would be perfectly flat once again and no one would've known that twelve hours earlier she had been carrying a life inside of her: a life he now cradled in his arms.

For the second time that night he held the baby out for her to take, but again she made no attempt to reach for her child.

"What is with you?" he asked incredulously.

"I don't understand", she replied.

"No, I'm the one having trouble understanding. We agreed you'd do this", he reminded her.

Cameron fixed him with a look of determination that carried a hint of disbelief, as if she had not made it clear to him a thousand times already.

"I agreed to fight for our baby. I agreed to protect it through birth. I have done all that you asked", she explained. The baby started to fidget and grizzle as the sky thundered overhead. Everyone in the room fell silent, their attention fixed on Cameron as she stood her ground against a startled John. "She doesn't need me anymore. My job is done", Cameron finished.

John couldn't believe what he was hearing; after all they'd been through...

"Your job is never done. Cameron... You're her mother", he croaked.

Cameron sighed as her expression softened, a sight that cut into John like a knife. Only she could be so human and not at the same time.

"My reserves are drained. It is unlikely we will be attacked tonight. I will enter standby. Wake me if you need me", she said.

John opened his mouth to reply but before he could get a word out, Cameron turned on her heel and click-clopped over to the stairs; kicking off her shoes and casually removing her dress in one go. John's heart skipped a beat as she stood completely nude for all to see. Sophie, who had been whispering with Jason nonstop since they got there, fell silent at the sight of Cameron in her blatant nakedness. Sarah came out of the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks as Cameron began her ascent, flashing them all with her rear.

"Now there's an ice breaker", she heard Jason quip as she reached the landing and turned towards John's room and a surprised Derek.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked in his usual gruff manner.

"Resting", Cameron replied as she slipped under the covers and made sure to cover herself entirely. She had little interest in trading pointless banter with the burnt-out soldier and so Cameron wasted no time in closing her eyes and activating her hazard alarm before slipping into the blissful oblivion of standby mode.

"Metal", Derek grumbled.

-000-

The sky growled as fierce winds struck every corner of the house and arcs of lightning threatened to set alight anything they might touch. For the humans and cyborgs held up inside, however, this was the least of their problems.

Cameron was fast counting electric sheep and John was likewise huddled on the floor with the sleeping baby in his arms, rendering him otherwise useless. Sarah paced back and forth as she had done for the past ten minutes. Jason and Sophie remained on the floor, crouching against the upturned couch, waiting for anyone or thing to come bursting through the door.

Upstairs, Derek watched the rain run down the window panes with a blank mind. Every ounce of him was ready to raise hell but the only enemy that stood at the door was the wind and the rain, opponents he could do nothing about. Instead he took to watching Cameron sleep and wrinkled his nose at how eerily lifelike she could be at times. He could swear the covers were rising and falling, but maybe it was the light (or lack thereof) playing tricks on him. Yes, that's probably it; he convinced himself.

"...dark hair, sort of a Chinese look about her, dark clothing, and oh yes: a miserable-as-fuck attitude."

Derek blinked as those words brought him back to the here and now.

Sophie's description was far too accurate to be anything less than what he knew: Jesse.

Abandoning his futile post at the window, Derek quickly descended into their midst and crossed his arms as Sophie continued her account of what happened in the alley. She spoke of her and John's escape from the room, their retreat into the alley, and the approach of a female assassin wielding a shotgun and a knife on her belt.

"She had us cornered. Cameron couldn't have helped. Neither could you. We were screwed", she told Sarah.

"Why didn't she kill you then?" Sarah asked, confused.

"She couldn't", John interjected, still sitting on the floor by the dinner table. "There was something... something in her eyes. She couldn't do it. She let us go", he explained.

"Her mistake", said Jason, his gaze slipping to Derek's with a knowing look.

You son of a bitch, you better not be thinking what I think you're thinking; Derek growled inside.

"It's been three hours since she attacked. I doubt she's gonna just turn up here, knowing that we'll be on alert, and expect to have another shot at getting to John. It'd make more sense for us to hunt her instead, since she's so indecisive right now", Derek reasoned.

"What makes you think she's undecided?" Jason pointed out. "If she'd pulled that trigger and killed John and the baby, Sophie would've torn out her spine. It sounds to me like she was simply exercising a little self-preservation."

Tired of Jason's testy attempts to provoke him, Derek fixed the cyborg with a deathly glare and unleashed a sudden blast of plasma energy from his eyes, hurling a horrified Jason screaming out of the window. Everyone stared in awe as his melted remains slid across the muddy driveway and out of sight, never to bother humanity again.

With a sigh of deep regret, however, Derek tore himself out of fantasy land and back into the cruel world of reality where Jason was still sitting there, a mocking smile on his face. To his earlier point he answered:

"Maybe, but whatever her reason, she's given us a chance to strike back. I'm not gonna let that chance pass us by. I'm going after her."

Jason snorted at Derek's little speech and returned to fiddling with his rifle. Satisfied, Derek grabbed his Beretta and stuck it under his belt before snatching up his jacket and heading to the door, only for Sarah to suddenly step in his way.

"If you get the chance-", she began.

"I'll put her down in a heartbeat", he lied.

Sarah gave him a long searching look before nodding and stepping aside. Finally free to seek his own answers, Derek marched out into the pouring rain and quickly jumped into his truck. He had one goal and one goal only: find Jesse and force her to tell the truth. Derek already knew where she'd be, though it was likely she wouldn't be there for long; he had to hurry. What she did; threatening his nephew, trying to murder a helpless child... she'd earned herself a bullet or two from his gun but he was loathe to do it until he understood why.

Do I really want to know; he asked himself, turning the key in the ignition.

For the briefest of moments he'd convinced himself he had a choice.

-000-

PLESARIO HOTEL

APARTMENT 19b

LOS ANGELES

No amount of forewarning could prepare her for taking this step. Ever since she materialised into this world Jesse had a clear and single goal: save mankind from the child of Connor. It was simple, easy to remember and straightforward to execute... in theory. Assassination always carried the implication of sitting on a rooftop, out of harm's way, squeezing the trigger on a high-calibre sniper rifle. One shot. Job done. At least, that's how it was supposed to be.

But of course; it was never that simple.

Jesse had never considered just how difficult it would be to go through with such a cold action. Seeing that child kicking and screaming in Connor's arms... it flipped a switch inside of her, and for the first time in years she felt the heartache of her lost child. It called out to her, pleadingly, not to pull that trigger. After everything she had witnessed in the future: the eradication of mankind, the rise of the machines, the desperate assault on Skynet, and the devastating aftermath of the civil war; she still could not let go of her love for her unborn child.

It was rooted in her very soul; proof like no other that she had one.

So Jesse had no regrets. She felt no misgivings about her choice to spare the child. Time wasn't absolute. Things could change. And Ethan wasn't as well informed as he would like to believe. For all his dedication he lacked the capacity for any perspectives not his own. It would only be a matter of time before he realised the deed hadn't been done, and then he would look for her. Jesse had little faith in his ability for forgiveness. If he found her, she would not have any choice but to put a bullet clean through his skull.

"Going somewhere?"

Jesse froze in mid reach for a pile of shirts, every hair standing on the back of her neck as she registered the presence of the intruder.

Straightening herself up, Jesse slowly turned to face the voice and was greeted by a figure in the shadows instead. In her haste to get everything packed she hadn't switched on any of the lights, save the one beside her bed. The figure stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his face perfectly concealed by the dark. She could barely make out the glimmer of his belt and jacket zipper. As far as she could tell, he was not carrying a weapon.

"I asked you a question", the voice spoke.

A small wave of relief passed through her as she realised the person was not who she expected, but Derek instead. Beside Ethan, however, Derek was the second person she wanted to see right now. There was only one reason he'd be here tonight: he knew.

Her only consolation was that he might be easier to reason with than Ethan... or so she hoped.

"Derek-" she began.

"It was you, wasn't it? You were in that alley", Derek started.

"Derek, please-" she pleaded.

"You were here all along. You knew all along. You set the car to explode. You sat outside our house with a rifle."

Derek took a couple of steps into the room, keeping to the shadows as he circled her like a predator closing for the kill. She had no doubt that he would hurt her for her betrayal, and Jesse knew she couldn't move as fast as he.

"I trusted you when you told me you had nothing to do with this whole deal", he reminded her, stopping just close enough to block her escape. "You lied to me." Jesse could feel the fresh sting of those damning words as they cut into her, bringing to light the root of her sin. There was a lot Derek could forgive when it came to her, but a lie was not one of them. If she had been honest about her intentions from the start he would've stopped her, but he would also have forgiven her. It would never have come to this if she had just levelled with him.

She knew what was coming.

"I had no choice", she croaked as tears spilled from her eyes.

"Sure you did", he replied, taking another step closer.

"Derek-" she gasped.

"You always have a choice", he repeated coldly.

"Please-"she begged

"And you made the wrong one."

Silence...

She could hear nothing but the blood pumping wildly in her ears.

Too late she realised she was pleading with the wrong person when Ethan's features became all too clear as he burst out of the shadows. Within a heartbeat his hand was around her throat and with unnatural strength, he lifted her off the ground and slammed her hard against the left wall, shattering the nearby window with the force of the blow.

"I would've thought that you, _you_, of all people would appreciate the necessity of what we're doing", he growled. "Everything she did. Everything she will do. You've seen what lies in her future and you won't save her from that? You won't save _us_ from that? Is one life worth the fate of millions?"

"She's... just... a child... she... We can't..." Jesse protested.

"She's not _your_ child", he clarified. "But I guess I'll have to finish this my way."

Jesse kicked and squirmed in a futile attempt to wiggle free of his grip.

In the struggle she felt the cold metal of her gun digging into her back and quickly reached around to grab it, but Ethan was by far the wiser and caught her wrist, twisting it until she relinquished the weapon to him. A second later she felt that same cold metal pressed against the side of her temple and she fell very still.

"No!" she gurgled.

"It didn't have to be this way", he whispered softly in her ear before gently squeezing the trigger.

Blood splattered the walls in every direction, showering Ethan with more than his share. Put off by the mess, he let her body drop to the floor and threw the gun on the bed, disgustedly wiping his hands on the sheets. Looking down at her lifeless form he felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the turn of events.

"Or maybe it did", he thought aloud.

His work done, Ethan climbed out of the window and down the metal staircase. It was up to him to finish the job now, and unlike Jesse, he would not let petty human sentiments hold him back from what needed to be done.

-000-

HOMESTEAD

ARROWHEAD MOUNTAINS

She was without a doubt the most amazing thing John had ever seen. And he'd seen a lot in his relatively short life.

But this baby was something else entirely. It stood in a league of its own, separate from anything else in the world. What made it so special was the simple fact that she was entirely and indisputably his. From her soft unblemished skin to her dark curls, the baby was his creation, his flesh. Every time she shuffled in her blankets, she was reaching for him. Every time she opened her eyes it was to check that he was still there. Her every action, no matter how small, was for him and him only.

She was a miracle, and John had never been so happy to have yet another life-changing burden in his arms.

John was sat upon a dining chair with the baby wrapped snugly in his arms, silently admiring her beauty while the others continued their game of City Under Siege. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at her father with an almost bemused expression, her fingers curling and uncurling in a thoughtful manner. A broad smile crept across John's face as she watched him contemplatively. Looking into her little eyes he could sense a level of intelligence there that he'd never seen in a baby before.

She seemed to be evaluating him.

After a few moments she let out a gentle coo, as if to say that her assessment was satisfied. Amused, John placed his finger under her chin and tickled it gently. She instantly took hold of his finger with surprising strength and, after a few seconds of indecision, promptly shoved it in her mouth and began suckling. John's smile widened and he laughed a little, allowing her to drool all over his finger.

"Do you know who I am?" he whispered.

The baby stared up at him nonplussed.

"I'm your daddy", he said.

She continued to stare up at him but made no indication that she understood his words.

Unperturbed, John began to slowly rock her back and forth, occasionally giggling at the little noises she made.

From the kitchen archway Sarah watched the two with a reluctant smile. For all her misgivings about the entire ordeal, this moment was something she'd hoped to see one day in another life. She never imagined it would happen in this one. Sarah quietly approached the pair and took a seat opposite them. John glanced up and smiled but then dropped his attention back to the baby.

Seeing them like this brought back memories of when John was little and the hours she'd spent just holding him like he was holding her. She would give anything to go back to the days when she could hold him in her arms and feel that nothing in the world could ever touch him. Such innocence was a poorly underrated luxury that few parents ever appreciate.

But looking around she noticed the picture was incomplete; there should never be only one parent with a child...

"Where's Cameron?" she asked quietly.

"Asleep... I think. Or in standby or whatever she calls it. She needs the rest", he replied in a murmur.

They fell silent again as they both watched the baby happily sucking on John's finger. After a little while, however, John let out a sigh and looked at his mother properly for the first time this night.

"I'm worried about her, mom", he said.

"The baby?" Sarah assumed.

"No, Cameron", John corrected.

"Oh..." Sarah replied.

John's expression became pained as he ceased rocking the baby back and forth.

"She promised me she would be a mother to this child and yet now she's... she just... She doesn't wanna know", he explained.

"John, in all fairness; the last thing she was ever meant to be was a mother to anything. She strangles raccoons", Sarah pointed out.

John let out a snort of laughter and looked back down at his daughter with a pained smile.

"Yeah, I guess so. It's just... I hoped she would be different, ya know?"

Sarah nodded sympathetically but did not offer an opinion.

"She'll come around. She just needs time, that's all", he reassured himself.

The dim silence of the household came to an abrupt end as Sarah's cell phone suddenly burst to life with a piercing tune, followed by screaming from the startled baby. Jason spun around on the spot and pumped his shotgun but calmed almost instantly upon seeing Sarah duck into the kitchen with the phone to her ear. John hushed and rocked the baby to quieten her down while Sophie let out a sigh of relief and chuckled at Jason's overreaction.

Fine-tuning her ears to filter out the baby's screaming, Sophie focused on Sarah's conversation in the other room...

"Yes... Oh, you do? It's only been three weeks since I asked you for help... Yeah... Yes, I'm still interested... Uh huh... No... $50,000! That's extortion! ... Okay, okay, fine... Fine... You'll get your money; just make sure you turn up with the papers... alone... Right... I'll meet you in two hours."

Snapping the phone shut, Sarah returned to the lounge to find the baby reduced to grizzling and everyone watching her expectantly.

"I got a hit on a name mentioned in those files we bartered a while ago. I'm gonna meet up with him to see what he has to offer", she explained.

"And I suppose we just so happen to have $50,000 to spare, huh?" John quipped.

"We do. But that doesn't mean he's getting any of it", Sarah replied, tucking a Glock under her belt before pulling her jacket on. "I'm gonna be gone for a few hours so I want you and Jason to-" she began at Sophie, only to notice that Jason was no longer crouched behind the couch like he was a few minutes ago. "Where's Jason?" she asked.

Sophie looked to her left and gave a start at his absence, her expression convincingly surprised.

"For fuck's sake", Sarah sighed. "You! Stay here!" she then barked at Sophie before marching out of the door and slamming it shut behind her. The spare truck was gone, taken by Jason, leaving only the small get-around for her to use. Sarah had no idea why Jason had decided to vacate the premises but a pit in her stomach made her wonder if his intention was to beat her to the informant.

_Over my dead body_, she thought as she jumped inside the car and sped down the muddy path.

-000-

PLESARIO HOTEL

APARTMENT 19b

LOS ANGELES

The cold hard metal of Derek's favourite Beretta glimmered in the din as he stealthily approached No. 19b. He could hear nothing but the distant chattering of someone's television in another room further down. The complex was quiet... far too quiet. As he drew nearer to the door Derek noticed that it was very slightly ajar, a thin ray light shining through from the inside. Tightening his grip and thumbing back the hammer, Derek gently pushed the door open and raised his weapon as he stepped inside.

The room was very dark, the only source of light coming from a dull lamp in the bedroom. Still he could hear nothing. Every hair on the back of his neck stood up as he crept into the bedroom, his hands shaking a little in anticipation of whatever he might find. What he found, however, was not what he expected; and as he took in the sight before him, Derek wished he'd never set foot in the apartment.

Jesse was lying on the floor beside the bed, her eyes dull and her hair matted with blood. A single entry wound was visible on the right side of her temple from where the bullet had pierced her skull, splattering its contents all over the wall and floor. The bed too, was showered in blood, her Colt left on the sheets.

With a shuddering breath, Derek allowed the scene to impact him fully and bent double as he fell to his knees beside her lifeless body. Letting his gun drop to the floor, he covered his face as hot stinging tears started to roll down his cheeks. Gradually, his entire body began to shake as he wept for the death of his love.

Guilt and regret quickly set in as he wished over and over that he'd had the courage to save her from her own undoing. It was too late to save her now; she was lost to him, never to return.

No goodbyes.

He came here with the intention of killing her himself for her betrayal, and to hear her side of the story before the end. But now, seeing her like this; his heart broke instead of turning to stone like he had intended. She was gone and it was entirely his fault.

"I guess she couldn't live with her decision", came Jason's voice.

Every nerve in Derek's body snapped upon hearing him, and he jumped to his feet, gun in hand, and pulled the trigger three times. Each bullet hit Jason squarely in the face, stripping away a sizable slice of his flesh with each hit. Jason simply stared at him, however, unaffected by Derek's outburst. Derek's breathing was ragged as he slowly lowered his gun and turned back to Jesse's corpse.

"I should've helped her", he croaked.

"You should've done a lot of things but you didn't, so why torture yourself with 'what if's? She could've told you the truth. She chose not to", Jason replied.

"Why the fuck do you care?" Derek growled.

"I don't. She's dead. Case closed", Jason answered.

"No... No, there was another guy-" Derek began.

"Who could easily have been her all along. Sarah's account is hardly accurate, after all", Jason sniped.

Defeated, Derek sighed deeply and covered his eyes with his hand as the distant sound of sirens drifted into earshot.

"We have to go", said Jason.

With one last look at his lover's body, Derek nodded and followed Jason out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.

-000-

ARROWHEAD CITY

THE DARKEST ALLEY KNOWN TO MAN

Sarah was used to being stuck between a rock and a hard place, but being left waiting between the backside of a fish joint and some vagrant's pissing corner was rather more pungent than the former.

Covering her nose with her sleeve, Sarah refrained from leaning against the walls for fear of what might be dripping down them. The informant was already ten minutes late and she was starting to get very impatient. Her hand periodically groped the 9mm tucked in her belt, just in case it turned out to be a trap or if some disgruntled fishmonger leapt out of the darkness at her with a katana.

_Ten more minutes of this and I'm gonna pack it in_, she thought as another not-so-fresh steam of God-only-knows-what burst out of the ventilations.

After about five minutes of more waiting she heard the distinct clattering of an empty food can and once again gripped her Glock. But out of the shadows appeared a man in smart-casual attire, looking a little apprehensive of his surroundings, despite being the one to suggest it in the first place. Removing her hand from the gun, Sarah felt a bad for the guy, and wondered if killing him was worth the bullet.

He slowly approached her, subtly puffing himself up to appear unafraid, though she saw right through his facade.

"Herman Schultz?" she addressed him with as much courtesy as she could stomach in the current atmosphere.

"Ms Baum?" he replied, eyeing her with understandable suspicion.

The two observed each other for a brief uncomfortable moment before they both relaxed to each other's presence.

"You have some information for me?" Sarah enquired blatantly, wanting to get it over with as fast as possible.

"I do. You have what I asked for?" he countered.

Backing up a few paces, Sarah reached down beside the nearby red dumpster and picked up a grey bag and opened it enough for him to see the $100 bills inside. After a moment of careful observation, he reached inside his jacket and produced a large brown envelope. Without a word, they both set their items on the ground between them and took the other's in a rather hasty fashion.

Sarah flipped the envelope over twice, finding no markings on it. Though it was sealed, she could tell it was thick with the documents she'd asked for. The man was likewise satisfied with the contents of the bag and let out a short chuckle of relief. Ignoring him, Sarah opened the envelope and pulled the first paper-clipped file out enough to read the heading.

"Kaliba?" she asked aloud.

"Yeah, that's their name. Or at least, that's what they called themselves when I worked there", he explained.

"You worked there?" Sarah pressed, wondering if there was more to this guy than met the eye.

"I worked the facilities. A glorified floor sweep, you know? But I had access to their file rooms. Stuff they didn't want found. I dunno how helpful that lot will be to you, whatever you're going to do with it. You work for a rival firm, right?" he told her.

"Right. A rival firm. You've done us a big favour here", she replied, tucking the packet under her blouse.

The informant shuffled on the spot as she turned to leave, deciding that, for once, she would give someone a break.

"Wait! There's something else", he blurted.

Sarah turned on the spot and crossed her arms expectantly.

"I shouldn't be telling you this, but-" he began, only to stop at the sound of a cork popping.

He seemed lost for words at first before his eyes grew wide and a thin line of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. Less than a second later she noticed the front of his white shirt quickly turning the deepest of reds. Instinctively, she threw herself against the wall as the informant dropped to the floor, dead. A split-second later another shot struck the exact spot where Sarah had been standing a second ago.

Sarah crouched and drew her Glock, desperately searching for the sniper on the rooftops, where he was no doubt positioned. Poking her head up quickly she caught sight of a muzzle flash on the roof of the building next to the fish joint as the sniper took another shot. Seeing no other option, Sarah closed her eyes and counted to ten before bursting out of her spot behind the bins and firing five shots in the sniper's direction. The sniper cursed and shuffled backwards to avoid her fire, giving Sarah the opportunity she needed to escape.

Before he could get her in his sights again, she was already turning the corner and long gone.

"Damn it!" he growled, pulling his radio from his belt. "Gunner One to Base. Gunner One to Base. Target is compromised. I repeat: Target is compromised. We have a new Tango. Uploading visual data now. Over", he reported.

The sniper then unclipped a card from the scope of his rifle and slotted it into his radio, then pressed the transmit button. After a few seconds the radio beeped, confirming the transfer.

"Gunner One, this is Base. Return immediately for debriefing. Over and out", the other end replied.

Looking down at the data screen on his radio, the sniper burned her face to memory as he swore that they would meet again.

-000-

HOMESTEAD

ARROWHEAD MOUNTAINS

After a drive home that seemed to last all night, Sarah finally pulled into the driveway of their perfectly concealed cabin. Upon parking up, she noticed Jason's truck was already there, reawakening her anger for his abandonment earlier. Having had just about enough of being undermined, not to mention almost assassinated, Sarah kicked the car door open and slammed it shut with equal force.

She made sure to leave the cabin door on its hinges as she stormed inside and promptly slapped the intel on the dining room table, throwing her coat on the nearest chair and turning just as Jason emerged from the kitchen with a towel.

"Where the-" she began, stopping to notice his facial injuries before continuing; "Where the hell have you been?"

"I decided to join Derek in his yellow brick quest for answers", he replied slyly.

"Uh huh. And you just happened to leave the rest of us open to attack while you were gone", Sarah sniped.

"Sophie was here. Cameron was upstairs. John's hardly a flower child. Well, then again..." he mused.

Shaking her head incredulously, Sarah picked up the envelope and shoved it in hands. Jason turned the envelope right ways and examined it, his eyebrow rising with interest.

"You did notice this has a bullet hole in it?" he observed.

"Yes, I happened to notice that. Since two more of them almost took my head off, I'm sure I might've noticed", she snapped back.

"Another assassin? And here I thought we were one up", Jason remarked.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she sighed.

Jason threw the intel unconcernedly on the table and crossed his harms.

"It means the woman who tried to kill your grandchild is now lying in a pool of her own blood", he replied.

"Derek?" she posited.

"No, herself. One shot to the head, close range. She killed herself before we got there", he explained.

"Oh... Well this guy was someone else entirely. And judging by his being there, I imagine he worked for the same company our informant did. Does the name Kaliba mean anything to you?" she asked.

"Kaliba?" Jason repeated, taking a moment to consult his memory. "No", he answered.

"You have no records of them being involved with Skynet?" she pressed.

"Skynet was built by USAF after they bought out Cyberdyne", Jason elaborated.

"So you're saying Kaliba is a dead end?" she asked, feeling like she'd risked her skin for nothing.

"I'm not sure. I've been keeping close tabs on Cyberdyne. They went under a few years back but their research was never picked up. If the military has it they're keeping very quiet about it. Then again, with the things we've changed over the years, I doubt the origin I remember is necessarily how it's going to pan out", he commented.

Sarah let out a deep sigh as the complexities of time travel rattled her brain once again.

"Then we have to make Kaliba our priority. Find out as much about them as we can", she decided.

_As if this night couldn't get any longer_, she thought as she flipped open the first file and started reading.

-000-

_Purple and blue swirled in a fountain of colour as they joined green and red and yellow to form a surreal depiction of the human eye. It stared at her, blinked once, then suddenly burst into a thousand tiny shards of glass above her head, showering her in glitter and shell casings. Then the world turned utterly black. A few moments of complete silence followed before two giant glowing red orbs materialised out of nowhere to blind her. The sound of grinding metal mixed with an infant's cry deafened her senses as she covered her ears in pain._

Cameron's eyes snapped open as her visual receptors came back online.

The world returned to focus and the bare beige ceiling greeted her with a dull nothingness. Across the bottom left of her heads-up display the words '_All systems fully restored_' flashed a few times before vanishing. Clenching her fist she could feel her old strength returning and the corner of her lip twitched into the smallest of smiles. But her momentary euphoria was quickly punctured by the dream she had just experienced, for there was no other word to describe it.

Never in her entire existence had she ever experienced such an event. For a machine it was practically impossible. The only probable explanation would be that her chip was undergoing serious degradation and was hours away from corroding entirely. But a quick check of her systems confirmed that she was operating without such damage. This was both unprecedented and unwelcome.

Sitting up, she replayed the dream before her eyes and applied what she saw to common dream omens that she had researched in her studies of the human mind. Nothing she found had any feasible application for her, however, so she decided, for the moment at least, to put it aside and maybe consult John later.

John...

He was lying in bed beside her, still dressed but fast asleep. Checking her chronometer revealed the time to be nearly 6am. No doubt everyone's sleeping patterns would be out of synch after the night's events, so Cameron felt no need to disturb John as she carefully crawled out of bed and stood in front of the large mirror next to the window overlooking the drive.

Cameron examined her naked form carefully and was satisfied to see that her stomach had returned to its previous shape and size. No one would've guessed that just a few hours previous she had been carrying a child inside of her. She turned her body sideways to examine her waistline until she was certain that her body was fully restored to its factory settings. Pleased, Cameron opened the closet and extracted a pink nightgown which she slipped into and tied up to hide her non-existent modesty.

A soft gurgling noise snapped Cameron out of her reverie and drew her attention to the makeshift cot on the other side of the bed. With slight trepidation, she stepped over to the cot and peered inside to see her infant child squirming in her sleep. Cameron tipped her head a little to one side as she scanned the child's features, finding the markers for several traits inherent in both herself and John. The baby stirred again but did not wake and placed its thumb in its mouth to suckle on.

Cameron watched the child sleep for several minutes while she reflected on the past months and the time she'd spent carrying and nurturing the baby. John had made her promise to love their little creation, but looking down at the baby and its alarming innocence, all she could see was a liability and a weakness. John could not see this, but it was at the forefront of her thinking. Giving it up for adoption or perhaps killing it altogether would be far more beneficial to their circumstance and her mission.

But John would never forgive her for doing either.

Mission or no: she was stuck with this child and the promise she made to its father.

"Any thoughts on what she's gonna look like?"

Cameron glanced up to see Sarah standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, but unlike every other time she was around Cameron; her face was not inclined towards negative expression. Cameron looked back down at the baby and conducted another scan.

"The variance of features inherited from me and John is on a scale of 80/20 to my favour", she explained.

"Huh... Let's hope she has his brains then", Sarah quipped.

Cameron considered pointing out that she was more intelligent than John and that it would be more beneficial for the baby to have _her_ brains than his, but decided this would only irk Sarah's pride.

"Have you thought of a name?" Sarah asked.

"John said we should decide it together", Cameron replied.

"Why wait? I already have one in mind", Sarah posited.

Cameron watched her expectantly, her hands resting on the cot.

"Hailey... after my great grandmother. Her mother had fallopian scarring and her father was infertile after working for years at a nuclear plant. And then one day, out of the blue; Hailey was born. Their own little miracle", Sarah recalled.

Cameron tipped her head to one side again as she considered the story.

"It is possible she lied about her condition and had an affair with another man", she suggested innocently.

Sarah's eye twitched but she did not rise to the insult.

"They both had medical evidence and the kid got her DNA tested when she was older", she countered dryly.

Leaving it be, Cameron returned her attention to her daughter and considered the name carefully, comparing it to others she had short-listed from the baby book.

Hailey; meaning 'hay meadow', didn't really match the child's nature. Yet Sarah's story was rather fitting, regardless.

"Hailey", she repeated, extending a finger to caress her tiny face.

Hailey Connor.

_To be continued..._


	9. The Apple Never Falls Far

**Hope**

**Chapter 09: The Apple Never Falls Far**

TUNNEL SECTION B12

LOS ANGELES (circa 2026)

It was the 32nd day of the Resistance's occupation of this tunnel branch and all was not well. Within a week of settling, the tunnels had become flooded with refugees from an attack on two major bunkers nearby. Women and children littered every corner of every corridor and every room. They were like the very vermin that they so desperately ate. Or so Cameron thought.

Walking down one such corridor she couldn't help but find a dozen reasons why allowing civilians to take refuge here was a tactical error. The children ran rampant without supervision whilst the mothers either wept in dark corners or carried out sexual favours for scraps of food and supplies. The area had become a haven for lawless depravity and self-serving degradation.

Passing a man and a women engaging in blatant intercourse against the wall, Cameron wondered if sterilising the tunnels would be an acceptable option with all things considered. But she already knew John's disposition towards killing civilians. Putting the issue aside, she continued her patrol and turned a left into a relatively quieter tunnel, away from the hoarse screaming of the couple behind her. As she turned into this section she spotted a woman in rags creeping out of a side room.

She caught sight of Cameron and quickly covered her face before fleeing down the corridor. Cameron drew her sidearm and made to pursue but stopped as the ceiling began to shake and a few of the dim overhead bulbs popped. A deep rumbling was easily heard from above as an FK tank or 'Centaur,' as the soldiers called them, rolled over their position. Cameron waited for it to pass before easing up and placing her gun back in its holster. The woman was long gone but as Cameron started down the corridor, she heard something else.

Cameron could hear a strangled wailing noise from the room the woman had just left, and though she was inclined to chase her down, Cameron stepped inside the room instead. It was almost pitch black save for a single flickering bulb in the far corner. The noise increased as its source cried out incessantly. Cameron activated her heat vision and quickly located a white figure on the floor not a few steps away from where she stood. Switching to night vision, Cameron saw exactly what was creating the racket: a two week old infant.

It was flailing around and screaming at the top of its little lungs, desperate for its mother's attention. But the child's mother was gone, and as Cameron considered it, she knew the parent had no intention of returning. The child was wrapped in a few rags to keep it warm and on its belly was stuck a scrap of paper with a poorly written apology on it. Cameron considered the child and her options for dealing with it as the baby continued to scream and reach out for Cameron.

Her first instinct was to take it to the nearest civilian and have them deal with it themselves. But as she reached out to scoop the baby up from the floor, another option presented itself. They were overcrowded with more civilians than soldiers and with each new refugee to arrive they came one step closer to compromise. It only took one foolish human, usually a child, to alert Skynet to their location. An assault from HKs and Terminator foot-mobiles would be catastrophic in their current conditions. The civilians would be torn to shreds.

If she were to leave this baby in the hands of a civilian they would most likely try to hand if off to others, who would then do the same, until the child is eventually left outside to be somebody else's problem where it would either die or alert passing Skynet patrols. Cameron had heard of this happening in bunkers many times before and she was highly averse to triggering such an event here.

She could find the mother and force her to take her baby back, but what's to stop her from abandoning it again and starting the cycle all over again?

Choosing the only course that made sense to her, Cameron gently slipped her fingers around the baby's neck...

-000-

HOMESTEAD

ARROWHEAD MOUNTAINS

Hailey's face burned a deep red as she howled at the top of her lungs on the hardwood floor of John and Cameron's bedroom.

Cameron stood at a loss beside the bed, having just turned around from grabbing a bottle of talcum powder from the baby bag to find that Hailey had somehow gotten from the bed to the floor. Within seconds John came hurtling into the room, having heard Hailey's screams and the thud from downstairs. He took one look at his daughter and his eyes widened before quickly dropping to his knees and scooping her up in his arms.

"Shhhhh shhhhh it's okay, honey. It's okay. Daddy's here now. Daddy's here", he assured her, rocking her back and forth in his arms.

Cameron watched him pacify her with a piqued curiosity: she'd never seen him like this before. John continued to comfort the baby until she settled into a state of grizzling. Satisfied that she was unharmed, John cast Cameron a look of utter disbelief.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked incredulously.

Cameron held up the bottle of talcum and replied; "I'm changing her diaper like you asked me to."

"What and you couldn't keep an eye on her for five seconds?" he chastised.

"She was lying on the bed. I turned around to open the bag and when I looked back she was on the floor", Cameron explained.

"How long does it take you to get a bottle of talc?" he asked.

"3.7 seconds", she calculated. "The bag was zippered", she then added.

John continued to glare at her for several seconds before letting out a sigh of frustration and examined Hailey again.

"Well, it looks like she wasn't hurt. But just be more careful with her next time", he pleaded.

"I will", she promised. "I'm sorry, John."

John just shook his head and took a deep breath.

It had been almost a month since Hailey was born and things hadn't got quite as smooth as anyone had hoped. Jesse was dead, which meant they were in no more danger of being bombed or sniped, but problems kept cropping up within the walls of their own home. After a careful examination, Sophie had learned that practically every cell in Hailey's body had traces of nanotechnology, which on a larger spectrum meant that for every organic cell she possessed she had a synthetic one to go with it.

To make things even more complicated, the nanotech was I-950 by design, which meant that Hailey was going to grow faster than normal, a lot faster. Sophie predicted that Hailey would be physically one year old by the end of the month, two by the end of the second month, and so on and so forth. John had expressed concern that his daughter would continue this pattern and die by the year's end, but Sophie assured him that the aging process would stop entirely once she reached maturity, as is the case with all I-950s.

While Sarah took this as a blessing, John couldn't help but feel cheated in some way, and didn't relish the idea of compacting twelve years of his daughter's life into just one. He'd heard of daughters going from being sweet and adorable to raging teenagers in the blink of an eye, but he never thought it could happen literally. And this came with its own set of problems: Hailey was getting smarter. Coupled with her already enhanced intellect, Hailey was already starting to crawl and play with toys that other one year olds would be baffled with.

The past month had felt so rushed for John that he was starting to wonder if he would ever be able to catch up.

Thankfully, Cameron was perfectly able to adapt to the constant changes. But John couldn't help but feel saddened every time he woke up in the morning to find that Hailey had grown that little bit more in the night.

Once she was settled, John placed Hailey back on the bed and started changing her diaper whilst Cameron simply watched and compared his inefficient technique against hers. After cleaning her up and putting her in a fresh diaper, John playfully blew on Hailey's stomach, making her squeal with childish delight. Cameron idly wondered what that felt like and considered asking him to give her a taster later in the evening as he lifted Hailey up into his arms and kissed her brow.

John considered Cameron for a few seconds before adjusting his grip on Hailey.

"Wanna have another try?" he asked her.

Before Cameron could answer, John placed Hailey in her arms and instructed her in the correct method of holding the baby. Certain that she was secure in Cameron's arms, John took a step back to admire the scene. Cameron simply stood there with a look akin to a dog after having flashing reindeer antlers strapped to its head. Her disdain couldn't have been any more obvious and even Hailey could sense she was not appreciated and started to squirm.

"Ya know, you're going to have to get used to this", John sighed.

"Why? You always enjoy holding her anyway", Cameron replied.

"Yeah, but there's gonna be times when I'll have my hands full and someone else has to look after her", John explained.

"Like if you're under attack, for example?" Cameron countered slyly.

John's expression darkened as he sighed at her remark.

"How am I to protect you if I have this baby in my arms?" she continued.

"You won't have to. I can look after myself", he replied darkly.

Cameron felt tempted to list the many reasons why he couldn't look after himself, but thought better of it. Instead, she asked a question that had bounced around her chip for weeks.

"How do you expect me to love this child and still look after you?"

"You love me, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes", she replied with that usual hesitation while she checked and double checked its meaning.

"You will do anything to keep me safe because you love me, not because you're programmed to. That's not even a reason anymore. But I'm giving you a reason to protect our daughter: you have to learn to love her like a mother", he explained.

"But I love _you_", she said.

"Then love her too", he sighed.

Cameron considered his words carefully and couldn't help but see a point there, but loving more than one person was even more of an alien concept to her than loving in the first place. She never _learned_ to love John, it just happened. Cameron couldn't see how such a glitch would occur a second time. With an almost apologetic expression, Cameron handed her back to John and made for the door.

"I have to patrol the perimeter. It will be dusk soon", she declared.

"Cameron, wait", John said.

Cameron stopped and looked over her shoulder at him, patiently waiting to hear what he had to say, but John was at a loss for words and just sighed. Seeing defeat in his features, Cameron turned back to the door and spotted a spider crawling up the frame. She promptly squashed it beneath her palm and proceeded downstairs without another word, leaving John to tend to Hailey as she started wailing in his arms in protest of the absence of her mother.

-000-

SUNRISE LODGE - APARTMENT 101

LOS ANGELES

"No, Jason, it doesn't come with a pool. I told you once already."

Sophie stepped down the bare hallway of yet another prospective apartment, scanning its every feature and comparing it to recordings of their previous arrangements. So far she was impressed; the bathroom was generous, the lounge spacious, and the bedroom perfectly adequate. There was, however, no pool to bathe in.

"Yeah, like you really feel my pain over that one. I can hear the tears gushing from your eyes... Sounds like Niagara", she quipped.

Sophie's phone, like everything she owned, was decidedly temporary; as was the last two apartments she and Jason stayed in over the past month. Movement was necessary; for Jason was convinced the assassin was keeping tabs on them in particular. Now, however, he was certain they were safe. Though she kept her silence, Sophie was tired of the constant uprooting. To settle into a single place and not move for more than a week or two was a most welcome prospect.

"Well aside from that, I think this is as good a place as any. Lots of space, not too many windows to be observed, and a basement for you to tinker with your toys, so to speak", she explained, glancing down the hallway to the two large carriers she'd been hauling from one apartment to the other. "So... any decisions?" she pressed.

Jason considered for a few seconds before giving his approval, relieving Sophie more than a little.

"Good boy. I'm gonna just set up shop. I should be done by the time you come home. You will be home tonight, right?" she asked. Sophie listened with a sigh as he explained the unlikelihood of his return, citing the possibility that the assassin might turn up in the one place they least expect. Frustrated, Sophie snapped the phone shut and removed the battery.

_If you want my attention you'll have to come and get it_, she reasoned.

Though she knew it was futile. He wouldn't give up on his "mission" just to keep her satisfied. As much as she hated to admit it, Jason was succumbing more and more to his machine side. Unless they performed the procedure soon, he would be reduced to nothing more than the most basic Terminator logic: mission first, nothing later.

Sophie swore to never let that happen, even if she had to rip out her own heart to complete the procedure.

Closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh, Sophie stepped into what would be their bedroom and flexed her muscles whilst simultaneously releasing prolactin throughout her body. Within a few seconds her entire body relaxed and the sores from the past few days seemed to just slip away. In fact, her dosage quickly proved to be a little generous, and Sophie staggered for a second as blood rushed to her head. Taking a moment to collect herself, Sophie breathed deeply and opened her eyes.

Her heart stopped just as suddenly as it started as she looked upon the stranger standing just a few feet away from her. Within a microsecond her internal F.R.S. kicked in and calculated a 73% profile match with the very assassin she was supposed to be hiding from.

"Now just wait-", he began.

But Sophie learned long ago not to pass up an opportunity to get the upper hand on an enemy, and she wasn't about to let such an opportunity slip by. Moving with such speed that she almost appeared as a blur, Sophie knocked his hand aside and stuck him in the chest. Ethan slammed into the wall with a grunt, the impact sending cracks across the plaster like a spider's web. Sophie followed with a punch to his face, but Ethan dodged, sending her fist straight through the plaster.

She tried again with the same result before bringing her leg up to strike his stomach, but Ethan was far swifter than she gave him credit for and blocked the attack, followed by one of his own, knocking her back. Realising that she wasn't going to go quietly, Ethan stepped up his assault and violently delivered two nerve strikes to her breasts. Sophie screamed out in surprise; his precision was unparalleled, just like that of an I-950. She had little time to ponder this revelation, however, as Ethan made to hit her again.

Not wanting to repeat that unpleasant experience, Sophie ducked down and drove her finger tips into his knee cap. Ethan buckled with a very satisfying snarl, allowing her a strike to his jaw. Ethan flew back with the force of her punch, hitting the floor hard. Kicking his legs aside, Sophie moved in for the kill, her fingers curled into a death grip.

Reaching underneath himself, Ethan grabbed his handgun and quickly brought it to bear, stopping Sophie in her tracks. Before she could muster a response, Ethan fired a shot into each shoulder, flooring her as a result.

The agony of her injuries subsided almost immediately, thanks to her quieting of the nerves; but she could not get her arms to respond. Sophie's fingers twitched and clawed at the hardwood floor, but that was all they could do. Ethan's bullets were precisely placed, jamming the joints and preventing them from moving properly. Her first instinct was to get up and flee, for she could offer no challenge in this condition, but Ethan placed his boot on her chest, pinning her to the floor.

"Now that I have your attention", he began, examining his knee for further damage. "Maybe you can be so kind as to stay put and behave yourself while I pop this cap back into place, hmm?" he proposed. Seeing no other option available to her, Sophie nodded with clenched teeth. Satisfied, Ethan lowered his gun and reached down to his knee. With a sickening click, he popped his knee cap back into place and shuddered from the brief wave of pain before placing his foot back on her chest and pointing the gun at her head.

"And yes; I do know what you are. So don't try to convince me that putting a bullet through your brain won't end your rather generous lifespan", he said.

Sophie kept her silence as she stared up at the man who now held her life in his index finger.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

Sophie waited a beat before choosing to answer; "You're Skynet's newest plaything", she spat.

"Quite the contrary", he sneered. "I have no more allegiance to Skynet than you do. In fact, everything I'm doing and everything I have already done is in spite of the machines. You see, I am not your enemy, Sophie Young."

Her heart skipped a beat at his usage of her surname. Few knew it, for it was given to her as part of an unfulfilled infiltration assignment back in the days of her service to Skynet... before the holocaust of her people. For him to know that name he'd either have to be one of the I-950s that survived the purge or someone who knew her personally. She could not place him anywhere in her memory, however.

"How do you know that name?" she enquired, deciding she might as well try her luck in the off chance that he might answer.

Something flickered in his eyes as he processed her question; a sense of familiarity that unnerved Sophie.

"Oh I know more about you than you do", he replied, clicking the safety on his gun. "After all, you brought me into this world."

"I... what?" she gasped, unable to comprehend his meaning.

Ethan took a steadying breath before taking a step he never thought he would have to take.

"I... am your son."

Sophie's eyes widened as she absorbed this unbelievably audacious claim, but along with disbelief came a rampant desire to qualm any doubt; so her cybernetic scanners worked overtime to analyse every detail of his features and compare them to her own. When the results presented them self to her a few seconds later the odds of him telling the truth weighed in his favour, but only when she compared them to another's specification...

"Jason is the father?" she bleated before choking on her own words and finding herself dumbstruck.

Ethan nodded silently and slowly removed his boot from her chest. She was the last person in the world he wanted to harm, and seeing her paralysed and helpless tore him up inside. It had been too long since he last saw his mother, his last memory of her being far from pleasant. Pictures of her lying amongst rubble, bloody and broken, flashed before his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to avoid having to meet her in this time, but now he had no other choice. She was his only hope.

"In the future I came from... the war is over. We won. Skynet and all of its machinations are destroyed. Those that remained fell under Resistance command. Connor appointed us as his chief advisors in the recovery effort. We were finally rebuilding the world. But there was a virus... a disease that swept through every camp. It was killing hundreds every week. Our best scientists came up with a vaccine that could cure the virus, but others presented an alternative option: they called it Transcendence", he explained.

Sophie, still struggling with her son's revelation, weakly turned to listen to his story: a single tear falling down the side of her face.

"It's Connor's daughter. She's the one who started it all. The cure was working. We were dealing with the problem, but then she came along with her so-called 'long-term solution'... Cybernetic infusion! Taking people and robbing them of their humanity by installing her nanotech into their blood, creating a polluted life form. Too many people took to her idea. And before we knew what was going on, she had a whole army of augmented humans pushing to enforce her technology on the rest of humanity."

Ethan pulled up a chair and sat in it as he removed the clip from his gun and stared at the top bullet with melancholy contemplation.

"Fighting broke out between the two factions... We stood our ground with Connor, but that meant standing with the girl, so we got caught in the crossfire. I remember... I remember my father standing his ground before the crowd. And then there was this blinding light and this deafening crack. The next thing I know he's lying in pieces, melted chunks of him strewn all over the place. And you... you were just lying there... torn to shreds by the blast wave", he choked, his own eyes tearing up for the first time in months.

Sophie's entire body was numb. She felt as if she had already departed for the heavens and was simply tethered to her corpse, but the dim beating of her heart reminded her that she was still alive. The world as she knew it had been turned on its head. She had a son. Jason's son. A vengeful son. There would be no happy ending for her or Jason or their progeny. It was all for nothing.

"I can't change what happened. But I _can_ stop it here and now. The cyborg's child has to die before she can grow up to become that monster. Don't you see? It's the lesser of two evils. One life does not outweigh the lives of the many. I need your help, please", he pleaded, falling to his knees and taking her hand in his. "Mother... Please help me."

Her muscles contracted around the bullet, pushing it back through the entry wound and out of her body. Feeling her arm faintly returning, Sophie willed her fingers to tighten around her son's. But she did not concede to his wishes and pushed him away with all the energy she had left. Ethan fell back in disbelief at her refusal, shaking his head incredulously as he slowly clambered back to his feet and staggered out of the room. A few moments later she heard the door slam shut and all the world fell silent.

The other bullet eased itself out of her left shoulder, allowing the wound to close itself and begin the healing process, relieving her of the discomfort and restoring her arm to partial usability. But nothing could fill the empty void that occupied her soul. All of her enhancements were powerless to quash this agony. So she made no effort to get up from the floor and simply remained where she laid, every cell in her body screaming for the earth to swallow her whole and never return her to the world.

-000-

KALIBA TOWER – L.A. BRANCH

SAN FRANCISCO

A great deal of history surrounded what was now called the Kaliba Tower, much of it revolving around the "betterment of mankind". When it was first built in the 1900s the tower served as the main hub for technological research for a company called 'CyberTech Corporations'. During the ten years of their occupancy they made several unpublished leaps in cybernetic research, resulting in the very first super soldier exoskeleton design. In the later decades they merged with rival company 'Datadyne' after finding a piece of advanced hardware far beyond anything they could ever have conceived. The coalition subsequently christened itself 'Cyberdyne Systems'.

From this building, Cyberdyne oversaw the progress of its various R&D facilities spread across Los Angeles. One such facility was destroyed in a terrorist bombing in 1995, resulting in the loss of two artefacts salvaged from a crippled T-800 series Terminator in 1984. Luckily for Cyberdyne, all of the facility's files were backed up on the Tower's servers and other pieces of the machine, like the leg for example, were safely stored inside their deepest vaults. Following a series of funding issues, however, Cyberdyne Systems fell into liquidation and its assets were sold to the highest bidder. The company that bought the majority of Cyberdyne's interests was known only as 'Kaliba'.

To date, the nature of the Kaliba Group's research is unknown to the American government and its citizens...

_And it's going to stay that way_, thought Doctor Serena Kogen, Vice President of the Kaliba Group, as she sipped on her tea whilst rifling through her team's latest field report. As she shuffled through the reports, Serena took a moment to reflect on her tenure at Kaliba: ten whole years of tireless research leading to one absolute goal, and now after all this time she could feel the fruit of her labours coming to bear. Much had happened in that time, but even the cancer that threatened her ambitions could not stop her work.

_And I will be damned if one little technophobe is going to end it all now_, she thought.

Pushing the papers aside, Serena picked up the memory stick attachment and plugged it into her computer. After a few seconds it opened with a list of recordings from various surveillance ops, but her interest lay in only one particular clip. Serena selected the footage and sat back in her chair to contemplate what she was seeing: a woman was talking to an informant. Moments later, the informant was taken out by Serena's sniper. Clicking the zoom function, Serena then paused the video in time to capture the woman's face in clear detail.

The facial recognition software on her computer immediately confirmed her suspicions: the face belonged to none other than Sarah Connor, a known terrorist threat against all things mechanical. But as far as the rest of the world knew, Sarah Connor was dead. Serena was not so misinformed, however, and was in fact surprised that it took Sarah this long to track their company down. With a sigh, Serena made a note on her to-do list to make arrangements for Sarah's immediate disposal. Kaliba would not suffer such a threat, especially not when they were so close to reshaping the world for the future.

Interrupting her brief reverie, the small intercom on her desk buzzed, and with an annoyed grunt Serena answered the call.

"Yes?" she said.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Ms Kogen. But the Chief Executive would like to see you", her timid secretary announced.

Rubbing her temple with annoyance, Serena replied, "Very well. Send him in, Charity."

A few seconds later the fine oak door of her office room opened and a tall man passed through it casually. Serena spared him only the slightest glance as he strode towards her in full comfort of his surroundings, for he had graced her office an unaccountable number of times in the past. This man, this strong, intelligent, African-American man was joint CEO of the Kaliba Group; his power second only to Serena, but only by the fact that she was more corporately knowledgeable than he was.

Taking a seat opposite her, the Chief Exec immediately recognised that she would not spare him her full attention and began his customary sweep of her office, for Serena was averse to having the same decor for more than a week at a time. Whilst scanning the various cultural artefacts surrounding him, the man stopped at a painting of what he could only describe as a Geiger-esque nightmare. It depicted the twisted form of a man, his body pale and contorted by extensive and imaginatively painful machinery. He shuddered at the thought of having steel rods running up his nostrils and out of his ears, not to mention the eye clamps...

"Is there something I can do for you?" Serena suddenly interjected, having glanced up to see him eyeing her painting.

The man stood up and approached the picture for a closer look, studying the intricate detail with a sickly fascination.

"I have to say, Serena; this is the single most hideous decoration you've ever owned", he opined.

"I'm glad you like it", she replied sardonically. "But you didn't answer my question."

The man turned on the spot and raised his eyebrows.

"I happen to be very busy", she elaborated, gesturing to the pile of notes and data cards littering her desk.

The man smirked and nodded his head, taking a step towards the desk.

"Yes, I know that. So well in fact, that I'm sure there's something you need to tell me", he replied slyly.

This time it was her turn to act surprised; "And what makes you think that?" she asked.

"You never spend this long going over field reports unless it's something of exceptional importance", he answered knowingly.

Seeing no point in denying the fact any further, Serena conceded.

"Fine. It's probably best you hear this from me and not my careless assistant out there", she said, her eyes lingering on the door.

"What... Charity? I always liked her. Ever so helpful. Easy on the eyes..." he replied.

"Eyes are the only thing she's easy on. Try asking her to transcribe and... urgh. Anyway", Serena sighed, leaving her receptionist's dismissal for another day. She picked up a photocopy of the still image captured from the video logs and handed it to the man, who examined it carefully.

"I don't get it. Who is she?" he eventually said.

"Look closer. I'm sure it'll come to you eventually", Serena replied.

Still baffled, he walked over to the nearby window, allowing the sun to cast the photo in a different light. Slowly but surely he started to feel a sense of familiarity with the woman in the photograph. It was blurred, distant, but the more he thought on it the clearer the image became. The clearer it became the more he remembered. And the more he remembered... the deafening sound of gunfire:

"_Don't hurt my daddy!" a young boy screamed._

"_Nobody fucking move!" replied a raspy voiced woman in black combat attire, a silver gun gripped firmly in her hands._

_The boy shielded his father, who lay bleeding on the floor from a single gunshot wound to his left shoulder. He tried pushing the boy away, but his son was without fear for his own safety. All he cared about was protecting his father, his family. _

"_Get down on the floor, bitch! Fucking down now!" the woman screamed at his mother, who cowered in tears on the floor beside them. "Get out of the way!" she ordered, pointing the gun at the boy._

"_Don't hurt him!" the boy screamed again._

_With what little energy he had left, the father managed to push his boy off long enough for the mother to grab him tight, leaving him wide open to the mad woman's fury. _

"_Get on the floor! Fucking down now!" the woman repeated to the mother._

"_Just... Just let the boy go..." his father pleaded, propping himself up on the coffee table._

"_Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! It's all your fault! Motherfucker! It's all your fault!" she shouted, her finger slowly pulling on the trigger of her gun._

"_What?" his father replied feebly, shaking from fear and bloodloss._

_The boy stared in horror at her face, contorted by desperation and rage, yet overcome with tears of grief and pain._

"_I'm not gonna let you do it", she whispered, her hands shaking uncontrollably as he closed his eyes for what was to come._

Sarah Connor... Her name was Sarah Connor.

Though he could no longer remember her face, Daniel Dyson would forever remember her name, for she was the woman who marched into his life and took his father away from him, destroyed his childhood, pushed his sister to suicide, and charred a memory of hatred and unquenchable pain so deep that the very mention of her invoked nothing short of homicidal rage within the darkest depths of his soul.

Even from across the room and with his back turned; Serena could tell his hands were shaking. They had been professional partners for years, and though they did not always see eye-to-eye, she fully appreciated the circumstances of his past and the significance of the tidings she'd brought him.

"What would you like us to do about this?" she asked in her softest tone to appear sympathetic.

Daniel did not answer immediately and continued to study the image, every nerve in his body wanting to launch every missile they owned on the city until to rid the world of her. After a few moments of composure, Daniel turned and cleared his throat, holding the photo up for her to see. "Is this authentic?" he asked evenly.

"One hundred percent. There is no doubt that it's her", Serena answered carefully.

"You're absolutely sure?" he pressed.

"Our computers don't lie, Danny", she affirmed, adding his nickname as a soother.

Danny nodded silently and turned back to the window again, his arms crossed in deep contemplation as he decided what to do about it. After several minutes of agonisingly awkward silence, he finally returned to the desk and placed the photo back among the rest. "I want her removed... permanently", he decided.

Serena nodded, but then pointed out; "You do realise this represents a much larger problem, don't you?"

"Larger than the death of my father?" he breathed darkly.

"I'm afraid so", she replied calmly. "Take a closer look at her, Danny. Something is amiss, right? She should be pushing forty-five by now, and yet she looks barely thirty. Doesn't that strike you as a little odd?"

"Do I care?" he snapped.

"You should. Because the only way she could remain undetected for this long is if she was invisible or hiding in a hole somewhere or-" Serena began.

"Or if she jumped ahead", Danny realised.

"Right! You remember those radiological reports from the bank vault? We always suspected it was from a time travel device", she explained. "Put two and two together and you get..."

"An insurgent from the future", he concluded.

Serena nodded, "Maybe even a cyborg reprogrammed by the survivors. We can't let an opportunity like this pass us by."

"Agreed. We'll have to tag her and keep a close watch. I'll leave you to make the arrangements", Danny replied, making his way to the door. "But one thing to keep in mind", he added, stopping to look over his shoulder at Serena; "The second we get capture her cohort; I want her brought to me alive."

"You have my word", Serena promised with a devious smile.

Satisfied, Danny departed, leaving Serena alone with the task before her. Pressing the intercom and forgetting all about Charity's overdue pink slip, Serena said; "Clear my schedule for today, Charity. We have a lot of work to do."

"Yes, Ms Kogen", Charity replied with a hint of dejection.

_Let the games begin..._

-000-

HOMESTEAD

ARROWHEAD MOUNTAINS

"Can you say _dada_?"

Hailey looked up at her father and listened without comprehension. As advanced as she was, Hailey was still just a child, and she was not ready to start communicating by verbal means. For now, she preferred physical cues; such as clapping her hands when John made her favourite baby food, and throwing a toy at Sarah when she made her mashed up pancake surprise. She had many subtle ways of communicating with the adults around her, and saw no reason to complicate it with a so far unnecessary skill set.

"Come on, Hailey. Say _dada_", John persisted, mistaking the baby's disinterest for misunderstanding.

Hailey, bored with this new game, turned away from her father and began stacking the letter blocks Great Uncle Derek had bought her. Unnoticed by them, she positioned each one to create the most statistically stable structure. A child psychiatrist might diagnose her as autistic, but Hailey's mind was simply far more advanced than the average human being. For she herself was not entirely... human.

"Say _shotgun_", Sarah interjected from the couch, her head resting against her palm as she watched the baby contently.

"I think she's a little young to be cataloguing small arms", John chuckled.

"It's still only two syllables", she pointed out.

The baby regarded Sarah for a moment as if thinking about it, but quickly returned to her stacking. Suddenly the floor started to tremble from heavy footsteps as Uncle Derek staggered into the room, an empty beer can clutched in his hand. Despite his disruption, Hailey's tower barely wobbled and remained tall and proud.

"Say _dickwa_-" he drunkenly began, only for Sarah to reach over the couch and hit him firmly in the stomach.

Hailey gave out a squeal of delight and clapped her hands as Derek clutched his stomach and groaned, Sarah's smack having upset his already troubled digestive system. Both Sarah and John beamed at the little girl as she continued to giggle at Derek's misfortune and kicked her legs excitedly.

"Oh that's nice. She really is her mother's daughter", he slurred, swaying a little on the spot and suppressing the urge to regurgitate.

"How about you do us all a favour and drown yourself in the water barrel out front?" Sarah suggested testily.

With a mocking salute, he followed her advice and stumbled through the front door, closing it behind him. A second later the door jolted at the unmistakable sound of him falling back against it and sliding down to the floor. Not caring to check if he was still conscious, since both Sarah and John were inclined to think he wasn't, they continued to watch Hailey as she tapped her knees and made gurgling noises.

Minutes passed as they admired the little girl in silence, occasionally handing her new toys to play with. After a little while a sharp whistle came from the kitchen, signalling that dinner was ready; or ruined, as was the case with Sarah a majority of the time. Cameron descended the stairs just as Sarah came rushing to save the pot roast, oven mitts in her hands, and observed the scene before her. Following her carelessness earlier, Cameron had kept a distance from the baby and John, preferring to stay in the bathroom to complete a long list of beauty rituals on her person. She had intentionally taken her time to avoid any unnecessary altercations with the Connors.

Being given away by a squeaky floorboard, Cameron found herself the centre of attention as both John and the child turned to look at her intently.

"So you've finally emerged. How long does it take you to wax your legs, anyway?" John chided.

"I was very thorough. And it wasn't just my legs that needed attention", she answered truthfully.

John flushed at her self-explanatory statement and tried not to think in too much detail. He was still angry with her about her behaviour towards their child and anything to do with her body was an effective distraction, as she knew all too well.

"Well then I guess you won't mind if I take a quick shower before dinner", he said, getting to his feet.

Cameron looked from him to Hailey and back again, an expression akin to alarm on her face.

"I'm sure you can handle babysitting for 20 minutes, can't you?" he added pointedly, manoeuvring around the couch to pass her.

"Wouldn't you rather I join you?" she proposed, adding a hint of mischief to her voice.

John saw right through her ploy, however, and smirked; "I said I wanted a _quick_ shower", he replied before swiftly ascending.

Her last hope gone, Cameron resigned herself to the duty of being watchdog and promptly sat on the couch with an air of minute exasperation with her charge. She thought it curious, however, that she could feel so averse to performing the very same task she did for John every day. Looking down at the happy little cherub she wondered if it was always going to be like this. John wouldn't be happy until she took on the role he desired for her. But being a mother was not in her programming. What little nurturing skills she possessed were slanted towards combat training and endurance enhancement. Not cuddling and teddy bears.

Cameron continued to watch Hailey with little interest for almost seventeen minutes before something worthwhile caught her attention. A spider, much like the one she killed earlier, was scuttling its ways towards where Hailey sat. Cameron's first instinct was to observe, but a microsecond later she recalled that its bite was aggravating to the skin and might cause the baby much distress, which would then incur John's wrath for letting the baby come into contact with a harmful arachnid.

As Cameron lifted her foot to stomp on it, Hailey moved like lightning; grabbing a rubber duck and smashing it down on the tiny spider with a rather satisfying _squish_. Cameron slowly placed her foot back on the floor as she contemplated what she just experienced with a deep sense of intrigue. Reaching down, she removed the duck to reveal the dead spider beneath; perfectly dispatched by her miniature offspring. _A clean kill_, she mused.

Glancing back at Hailey, she was struck with a sight that instilled an even greater feeling of wonder: the letters on Hailey's block tower followed a pattern from the second down, and as she read the lettering Hailey turned the top block to show the first letter, spelling a word Cameron recognised but up until now refused to acknowledge:

M

O

M

M

Y

Cameron tipped her head a little to one side as she took in the spectacle, and Hailey copied her blatantly. Cameron blinked, her mouth falling open just a tiny bit. She couldn't interpret the data she was being presented with, but when the baby reached out with her chubby little hands, every response instructed her to offer her hand in return. Hailey clutched the tip of Cameron's finger, causing the cyborg to gasp in surprise of her strength.

Daughter stared at Mother. And Mother stared at Daughter.

It seemed to her like the most natural thing to do as she slid her hands beneath the baby's arms and gripped carefully, lifting the child into an embrace, just like John had shown her. Hailey placed her short little arms on Cameron's neck and held onto her shirt for support as she nestled against her soft brown hair. A tiny sliver of drool dripped onto her shoulder, but Cameron didn't care. Every sensation, every touch, every smell, was reintroduced to her with a meaning that was infinitely more poignant than before.

This child, this burden, carried far more worth than she had ever allowed herself to acknowledge. All this time she'd been missing a vital piece to the puzzle, but now she understood. The most important things in the world are so rarely realised without the slightest hint, given at the perfect time when one's mind is unprepared for such an epiphany. She held her daughter carefully in her arms, treating her as if she were made of glass, but knowing that the stuff her baby was made of would not easily break. Closing her eyes, Cameron breathed in the smells and warmth of her baby and slowly rocked from side to side, setting the infant fast asleep.

Vaguely did she notice John coming down the stairs, rubbing his hair dry with a towel, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

He had never seen anything so heart-wrenchingly beautiful in his entire life.

-000-

_I can't do this..._

After months of planning and consolidating his resolve, Ethan could no longer summon the will to take the life of an innocent. From his hiding place in tree-line surrounding the Connor's household he watched as Cameron cradled her baby in her arms, a look of undeniable contentment on her placid features. Her brown eyes sparkled with a light that came not from her ocular hardware, but from deep within the place she called her 'heart'. Lowering his rifle, Ethan slumped back against the tree just was Jesse had done weeks ago.

An alternate tactic was necessary, but he knew now that he would need another's help, and killing Jesse was the worst mistake to make.

Defeated, he crept back into the woodlands, vanishing into the darkness mere moments before a barely conscious Derek struggled to his feet, almost fell back down, and with a spectacular_ kaplunk_; dunked his head into the water barrel.

_To be continued..._


End file.
